Defending Bjork
by MahliaLily
Summary: Completed 9.12.04. What if Rory and Jess had destroyed the snowman in "Bracebridge Dinner"? What if everything had been different? What if Season 2 had gone my way? Lit and JJ
1. Hypothetically

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Defending Bjork

Chapter 1: Hypothetically

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Summary: In response to a challenge issued by CircleSky: I challenge someone to write a story where Rory and Jess destroy the snowman together. Your story will have to include: 1) An explanation/description of how they got from the conversation in the sleigh to the actual destruction of the snowman. To rephrase that, I mean a description of how Rory went from being slightly mad at Jess to wanting to "play" with him! 2) _Description of the dastardly deed, of course! 3) Jess and/or Rory referring to their conversation in the sleigh, including Chuck Presby and/or Bjork. 4) Description of the thoughts that are going through their heads when they share that look at the very end of the show (either from both of their POVs or from one person's POV and speculating on the other person's thoughts). 5) Description of Rory's thoughts when Lorelai sees the non-snowman. 6) Literati undertones._

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Disclaimer: I don't own GG, the characters, or anything associated with either. I just love the show, and I hope these humble li'l fics do it at least a li'l bit of justice.

Climbing into the sleigh, Rory glanced around for any sign of a riding companion.

"That it, miss?"

"I guess I'm alone," Rory answered the driver, a smile of contentment curling the corners of her lips. Even though she would've liked to share this experience with Dean, she was looking forward to being alone with her thoughts, enjoying the peacefulness of the wintry evening. The fur blanket now draped across her legs, she was just about to settle back and enjoy the ride when the sleigh lurched a little, and Jess appeared next to her, a smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" Rory asked with more than a trace of annoyance.

"Well, I heard it was two to a sleigh – no more, no less," Jess explained. "You," he continued, pointing a finger at her, "were breaking the rules."

"You could've hurt yourself."

"I live on the edge. I can jump out if you want," he offered.

"Doesn't matter to me," Rory replied dismissively.

"Are you mad at me or something?" 

"What do you think?"

"I can't read your mind."

"You got in a fight with Dean."

"Dean?" 

"My boyfriend," Rory explained in exasperation.

"Ah," Jess nodded in understanding. "He's still your boyfriend?"

"Okay, you can jump out now," Rory said angrily.

"I wasn't fighting him," Jess casually explained. "I was fighting someone else. He jumped in on his own."

"He was trying to help you."

"Oh," Jess said with mild sarcasm. "He should go into government service if he's so interested in helping people. But me… he can stop worrying about." 

"Why were you fighting in the first place?" 

"Cause Chuck Presby's a jerk," Jess explained.

"You were fighting Chuck Presby?" Rory asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah."

"Oh, he is a jerk," Rory agreed, scrunching up her face in disgust.

Nodding, Jess continued, "This whole town is weird and full of jerks." 

"Then why are you still here?" Rory asked, rolling her eyes in annoyance. 

"What do you mean?" 

Rory sensed from Jess's tone that she might have hit a nerve so she continued more gently, "I mean, school's out, and you don't like it here, so why don't you just go home?" 

"My mom didn't want me to," Jess stated simply.

"I don't believe that." 

"That's your right, I guess." 

"Did Luke say she didn't want you to?" Rory pressed.

"Luke told me it was his idea that I should stay," Jess answered, then, after pausing slightly, he continued knowingly. "It wasn't his idea."

Rory couldn't help but feel sorry for Jess at that moment. She couldn't imagine not having her mother around, being without her best friend. After a brief silence, Jess changed the subject.

"That's good," he said, looking at the entries for the Snowman Building contest.

"What?"

"Your snowman," Jess explained. "Snow-woman, actually."

"You know which one is ours?"

"It definitely has the most personality. Kind of looks like Bjork." 

"That's what we were going for," Rory answered, a pleased smile on her face.

"Yeah?" Jess returned her smile.

"But everyone thinks the one on the end is gonna be the winner."

"Really? It's so overdone." 

"I agree."

"You should win," Jess asserted.

"No argument," agreed Rory, smiling broadly. 

Jess looked at her for a moment, enjoying her smile, before diving into what he knew would be dangerous waters.

"Hey, what do you and Dean talk about?"

"What?" Rory asked, surprised at the sudden topic change.

"I mean, does he know Bjork?"

"I've played him some stuff," Rory answered hesitantly.

"Hm…" Jess contemplated her answer for a second. "So you got a teacher-student thing going?" he teased.

"Stop."

"No, really," Jess continued. "I'm curious. What do you guys talk about?" 

"Everything." 

"Like?" Jess urged.

Unable to think of anything that she and Dean talked about, Rory gave as general an answer as possible. "Just everything, tons of stuff, whatever." 

"It's just in the brief, non-pugilistic time I've spent with him in class, he just doesn't seem like your kind of guy," Jess explained.

"Well, he is my kind of guy. He's **exactly** my kind of guy!"

"Okay. I guess I don't know him that well," Jess conceded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"You don't," Rory agreed. Then, noticing the look on his face, she said more forcefully, "You don't." 

In response, Jess struggled to hide a smirk.

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes. Rory sat with her arms crossed over her chest and a sullen expression on her face, contemplating whether she should be more angry at Jess for being such a jerk or at herself for not doing a better job of defending Dean. She was still struggling to come up with things that she and Dean talk about when Jess interrupted her thoughts.

"Read any good books lately?" he inquired as though he hadn't angered her moments before.

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye and said nothing.

"C'mon, Rory. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to strike a nerve or anything."

"Strike a nerve?" she repeated angrily. "What do you mean 'strike a nerve'? Why do you think you struck a nerve? Just because I happen to--"

"Whoa, whoa," Jess interrupted, arms up in a pose of surrender. "Gosh, Rory, you're right," he said sarcastically. "I don't know how I could have thought such a thing. I must be crazy."

"Didn't you say you'd jump out of the sleigh if I wanted you to?" she inquired.

"Sure… if that's what you want," Jess answered. He looked into her eyes and lowered his voice. "Is that what you want, Rory?"

She boldly met his gaze, forcing herself to adopt a look of total indifference.

Jess shrugged. "Okay then." 

Calling her bluff, he gave her one last chance to stop him and then made an exaggerated move to jump out of the sleigh.

"Jess!" Rory yelled, grabbing the arm of his jacket to stop him. "Don't."

"But, Rory," he said sweetly, a smirk playing on his lips, "if you want me to go, I'm not going to deny you." 

"Just stay where you are!" she ordered, pulling him all the way back into the seat.

Again, he smirked in response. 

"Don't be so smug. I didn't tell you to stay because I want you to stay. I don't enjoy your company in the least, just so you know," she rambled. "But if you jumped out because I told you to, you'd probably fall and hurt yourself, and then I'd feel guilty. And personally, I don't think you're worth feeling guilty over, so I'm just gonna save myself the trouble. Okay?"

"Okay," Jess said with a nod, successfully suppressing his amused smile this time.

"We'll just sit here, quietly, and try not to drive each other crazy. Agreed?" 

"Sure," Jess said.

"I'm serious, Jess. By quiet, I mean that you'll be quiet. I don't think my mother would appreciate if one of the thoughtful sleigh rides she arranged turned into a bloodbath, and, at this point, if you don't sit quietly and refrain from—"

"Rory," Jess interrupted. "Do I seem like the Chatty Cathy type?"

"No," Rory mumbled reluctantly.

"Then I think I can manage to make it through the rest of the sleigh ride without turning you into Lizzie Borden."

"Well, good then," Rory weakly replied before turning her eyes to the scenery around her.

Deciding to give Rory exactly what she wanted, Jess settled back and looked at the decorated streets of Stars Hollow. As he took it all in, he couldn't help the strange, momentary feeling of contentment that the town produced in him. He immediately shoved the thought aside, however, and decided that the cold air must be wreaking havoc on his brain. Hearing Rory sigh, he glanced over and noticed that she seemed to be going through some sort of internal struggle. He was dying to know what she was thinking, but he remained perfectly quiet.

Rory attempted to enjoy the silence, now that Jess had finally stopped speaking, but she couldn't seem to get her mind to focus on anything but him. She just kept thinking about how nice it was to be sitting next to him, how good he smelled, how absolutely infuriating he could be sometimes. She could feel her cheeks growing red, so she tried to switch her mind to thoughts of Dean. "Dean," she said in her head. "Dean, Dean… Jess." She sighed audibly. She saw Jess glance at her and noticed a slight smile cross his lips before he turned his eyes forward again. She couldn't take it anymore. Sitting next to him and not talking to him was driving her crazy.

"Listen Up!" she said, her voice coming out much louder than she'd intended. 

Jess didn't say anything. She could feel his eyes on her, and she waited for him to say something, anything. He didn't. Finally, she turned her head to look at him.

He was looking at her curiously, but, as promised, he was being completely quiet.

After a moment of complete silence, Jess's curiosity got the better of him.

"Well," he said, an eyebrow raised. "I'm listening."

"Oh… um… that's not. I wasn't—" Rory answered, blushing. "I didn't mean that you should listen up. That's the name of the book I've been reading."

"Ah," Jess remarked in understanding. He pondered the title for a minute. "I don't think I know it. What's it about?"

"Oh," Rory said, relaxing and silently thanking Jess for not pointing out that she'd broken the talking moratorium. Turning her mind to the book, she grew animated and completely forgot that she was supposed to be annoyed with him. "It's this collection of feminist essays by young women – in their teens, twenties, early thirties."

"How very Susan B. Anthony of you!" he replied.

Rory smiled. "Well, I don't necessarily agree with all of the essays. They talk about growing up nowadays, in an age when feminism appears more radical, and it's taboo to call oneself a feminist. The concept is good, but I think that sometimes they spend too much time placing blame on men. I mean, it's not fair to generalize. When you think about it, there are many women who are close-minded, and there are lots of men who are really open-minded and embracing of women's intelligence and ideas." Jess smiled knowingly at that, which didn't go unnoticed by Rory. "Anyway," she continued, starting to blush, "some of the essays are really interesting, and, even if I don't agree with them, they're all really thought-provoking."

"Sounds like you're enjoying it."

"I am," Rory responded, a satisfied smile on her face. "It's actually pretty empowering. It makes me want to do something radical."

"Stand up for women everywhere," Jess declared with a laugh.

"Something like that," Rory said softly, suddenly embarrassed. They both fell silent again.

By now, the sleigh had gone around a loop and was heading back to the Independence Inn. They were just reaching the snowmen again.

Eyeing them, Jess got an idea. "Huh," he pondered out loud.

"What?" Rory asked, curious.

Jess looked at her and grinned. "Do you really want to do something empowering, or was that all talk?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, not liking the mischievous tone of his voice.

"You know," he continued. "Stand up for women everywhere."

"Jess, what are you talking about?"

"There might be something we could do. Nothing huge. Just a little something to quench that thirst for risk-taking that you **must** have… somewhere." He pretended to be searching her for some sign of adventurousness.

"I take lots of risks!" Rory argued.

"I believe you," Jess teased. "But the real question is, will you take this one?"

"What?" Rory asked again.

"How much do you want Bjork to win the Snow-Person contest?" he asked devilishly.

"Oh no," Rory said, trying not to give into his elementary school hijinks.

"C'mon, Rory, you and I both know that Bjork is way more deserving of winning than that trite sculpture. Anyone with the right tools can do that. It didn't take any thought."

"It's cheating, Jess."

"Nah. It's your chance to stand up for the oppressed everywhere!"

"You're insane."

"Maybe, but you like it!" Jess urged with a grin. "You want to do it."

"I do not!"

"Okay then," Jess said, shrugging his shoulders. They'd now arrived back at the Inn and were about to exit the sleigh. "But, if you should happen to change your mind, Bjork will be waiting."

He turned his back to her and started to walk towards the Inn.

"When?" Rory called after him. "Hypothetically."

Jess looked back at her and smirked. "_Hypothetically_," he emphasized, "around 2am." Then, he turned and walked into the Inn, leaving Rory grinning from ear to ear.

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A/N: I've written fanfics, but this is my first GG. Hope you like it! I like reviews. Subtle, no? ~Becka


	2. Thumpety, Thump, Thump

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Defending Bjork

Chapter 2: Thumpety, Thump, Thump

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A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed the first chapter! Fourteen reviews for my first GG fanfic isn't too shabby! ;) I appreciate it. I hope you all like this chapter. No direct show quotes in this one… 'Tis all me! Oh, the pressure – the… overwhelming… pressure… *grin* 

Enjoy! ~Becka

At last, the numbers on the bedside clock turned to 2:00. Until that moment, Rory was beginning to doubt that it would ever actually happen. She was fully expecting time to effortlessly leap from 1:59 to 3:00 with absolutely no in-between. But now that 2:00 had officially arrived, worry was setting in. For the past three hours or so, she had been contemplating what she was going to do when the clock turned to that fated time, and now that it had, her decision wasn't any clearer. She knew – she kept telling herself – that going was a bad idea, but she was beginning to understand that the regret of not going could be much worse. After debating with herself for a couple more minutes, Rory finally made up her mind. Now all she had to do was go through with it and not get caught. That would take some skills she was pretty sure she lacked.

Gingerly, she eased her body out from between the covers and lowered her feet until they came in contact with the carpeted floor. Glancing over her shoulder at her mother's sleeping form, she rose and crept to retrieve her jeans and sweater. She was growing more confident and was just about to pull on her boots when she heard Lorelai stir. Freezing in place with one foot raised and poised to enter the shoe, she watched her mother closely for any sign that she was awake. Rory couldn't imagine that any sound she'd made could have woken her mother since Lorelai slept like the dead, but she couldn't take any chances. After a short while had passed with no further movement, Rory exhaled and finished getting ready. Then, her eyes darting constantly to the bed, she soundlessly opened the door and walked out into the hallway. Surprised but grateful that it had been so easy, Rory paused and gave a relieved sigh. Then, she moved more quickly down the stairs, retrieved her coat, scarf, mittens, and hat, and headed out the door.

***

As Rory approached the center of town, she couldn't help the feelings of freedom and exhilaration that were charging through every inch of her body. Her heart was pounding, her breath was shallow, and the butterflies in her stomach must have lost all sense of direction because they were twirling and whirling aimlessly. She was just beginning to calm a little when she turned a corner and caught a glimpse of Jess. He was standing among the snow-people, rubbing his gloved hands together in an effort to generate some warmth. Excited all over again, Rory increased her pace and was able to walk a few more feet before Jess looked up and saw her. As soon as his eyes made contact with hers, a smile spread across his face. In response, Rory's heart skipped a beat, and she felt her mouth curve into an answering grin.

"You came," he stated once she'd reached his side.

"Well, I couldn't exactly let Bjork down now, could I?" Rory answered. "We empowered women have to stick together."

"Ah," Jess replied, half-nodding his head by way of agreement. "Is everything okay with your grandparents?"

Rory was momentarily taken aback by his considerate question and then instantly regretted that she was surprised. She prayed it hadn't shown on her face. "I'm not sure," she replied quietly. "I think so. After their fight, my grandma was going to stay with us in our room, but she went for a walk and didn't come back. I think that's a good sign."

"Seems so," Jess answered, thankfully giving no indication that he'd noticed anything unusual in Rory's response.

"I'm glad they worked things out," she continued. "I wasn't sure how I was going to get out of the room without waking up my grandma."

"Huh. So you must've **really **wanted to come then," Jess teased.

"Well, no. I mean, I didn't say that," Rory stammered. "It's just – I didn't want there to be any impediments if I should happen to decide to come. I wasn't planning on coming. Actually, it was an impulsive, last-minute decision."

"Rory Gilmore, Miss Impulsive?" Jess asked incredulously. "Why I never thought I'd see the day!"

"Quiet!" Rory ordered, trying unsuccessfully to hide her amusement beneath a veil of anger. "You don't know anything about me."

"I have some ideas," Jess replied.

"Oh, really? And what would those ideas be?"

Jess glanced down at his feet and then back up at Rory but didn't say anything.

"C'mon, Jess. I'm curious. What do you think you know about me?"

"A gentleman never reveals a lady's secrets," Jess retorted with a mocking tone of chivalry.

"Actually, a gentleman doesn't claim to know a lady's secrets to begin with, especially when he doesn't," Rory responded bitingly, feeling irritated all of a sudden. "So, are we gonna do this or not?" she asked, changing the subject. "I'm getting cold."

"Sure," Jess replied nonchalantly, ignoring Rory's tone. "Go ahead."

"What? What do you mean?" A look of panic distorted Rory's features.

"I mean," Jess drawled. "Go ahead and destroy the competition."

"I'm not – I can't – But you said – Are you just gonna stand there and watch?"

"Thought it might be a good show. You didn't think I was gonna help, did you?"

"Wh – " Rory began to protest, but Jess quickly interrupted, using the most innocent, small-town, "Gee whiz" voice he could muster. "Now, Rory, I would **never** do something like that. It would be wrong. Somebody worked long and hard to create this here masterpiece," he explained, resting one hand on the snow sculpture's hunched shoulder. "I'd never think of destroying it, and, you know, actually, I'm surprised you would. It's so unlike you." Jess shook his head disapprovingly and clicked his tongue like one would to a misbehaving child.

Rory's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"What's your defense?" Jess inquired. "Explain to me why you would have the **audacity** to so boldly critique this fine work of art."

"I – I –" Rory choked out, a strained, contemplative expression forming on her face. "But this was – you said –" She was still struggling to get a complete thought out when she noticed the pleased smirk on Jess's face.

"You jerk!" 

"Had you goin', didn't I? That whole innocent thing you do really isn't an act, is it?"

"Oh, you're so gonna get it!" she promised as she snatched up a handful of snow and molded it into a ball.

She was just taking aim when Jess darted behind the "ringer" snowman. On a mission and therefore not thinking particularly clearly, Rory instantaneously re-aimed and hurled the ball his direction. It immediately smashed into the snowman's cane, breaking it in half.

"Oh my God!" Rory exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth. Jess peeked around the snowman and saw what she'd done. Then, he looked up and saw the guilty expression on her face.

"Nice aim, Ryne Duren."

"I did not mean to do that!" she said sincerely.

"You sure?" Jess teased. "'Cuz it seemed to me like you did it on purpose."

"I did not!" Rory argued. "Do you think you can fix it?"

"Fix it?" Jess asked sarcastically. "Do I look like a snow doctor?" Glancing down at himself and then returning his gaze to Rory, he continued, "I'm not wearing a white coat, and I definitely don't have a stethoscope on me. But then again, snowmen don't really need medical instruments, do they? Maybe we should just hold a flame to him and put him out of his misery. I think I have a lighter here somewhere," he finished, shoving his hands in his coat pockets and feeling around for a lighter.

"Stop! This is not funny!" Rory complained, trying really hard to smother the smile that was tugging on her lips. "What if it was that man's dream to win this contest?"

"Then he's pathetic," Jess declared. 

"He probably spent his whole life honing his craft!" she continued.

"His craft?" Jess repeated. "Did I mention that he might be pathetic? 'Cuz I think you're helping my case."

"I'm right," Rory continued, ignoring Jess. "He was honing his craft until the day he could come here and finally make his lifelong dreams come true. I bet this was to be his magnum opus. And now look at it. It's ruined."

"You think you ruined some poor John Boy's magnum opus?" Jess asked incredulously.

"Okay," Rory conceded. "When you put it like that, maybe it sounds a little—"

"Insane?" Jess inserted.

"I was going to say silly."

"Silly? No, it's insane. Rory, you feel guilty because you accidentally broke the cane of a ridiculous, pretentious snow sculpture."

"Stop reminding me. I know! I'm a horrible person!" she bemoaned.

"So the snowman will hobble a little when he walks, it's not the end of the world!"

At Jess's comment, Rory couldn't suppress her smile anymore. "You're awful!"

"Me?" Jess asked, feigning insult. "I didn't turn Frosty into a gimp! Now he really is gonna be thumpety-thump-thumping around town!" Rory was now laughing, but Jess kept going. "How does it feel, Ms. Gilmore, to know that you have viciously robbed America's beloved Christmas idol of his jolly, happy soul?"

"Isn't Santa Claus America's beloved Christmas idol?" she questioned.

"Oh, sure, take away Frosty's title too! You're heartless!" 

"I know. You're right," Rory despairingly agreed. "I am so insensitive. I'm belittling Frosty. I'm laughing at his misfortune. And what's even worse is that, when I broke his cane, I actually kind of enjoyed it," she admitted.

"Yeah?" Jess asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her unexpected revelation. When Rory sheepishly nodded, he said with a wide, adorably crooked grin, "I always suspected you had a little bad girl in you." 

Rory smiled shyly.

"Well, you know," Jess added. "Since you admit that you enjoyed it and since, according to you, Frosty here is already ruined, why stop now?" 

Walking towards her, he handed her another snowball. "Go at it."

"You have to help," Rory ordered, flashing a naughty smile. 

"But I don't have a cause like you do."

"You could just pretend it's Chuck Presby," she suggested.

Jess briefly considered the idea and then shrugged. "Good enough for me." 

With that, they both started pummeling the snowman with snowball after snowball, breaking off a piece of hat brim, a chunk of shoulder, a finger or two.

After awhile, Rory grew frustrated. "This isn't working. It actually almost looks better than before we started, if that's even possible. It has a rugged charm now."

"Hmm," Jess contemplated. "You're right. Well, there's only one way to solve that." And before Rory knew what was happening, he'd effortlessly picked her up in his arms, carried her to the snow sculpture, and dropped her on top of it. In mere seconds, Rory was sitting on the broken remains of the former contest shoo-in, stunned but laughing until her side hurt.

"I can't believe you just did that! Now it really is ruined!" she said between gasping breaths.

"Huh, 'cuz that wasn't my intention," he said sarcastically, enjoying her riotous giggles.

She managed to adopt a straight face as she stood and brushed the snow off herself. "Hey, I could've been hurt!"

"Death by snow pile? I think the only way that could happen is if you'd been under it instead of on top of it," he joked. But a part of him was feeling sorry for his impromptu action, and he found himself asking, "You're okay, right?"

"Aside from just participating in a brutal attack on poor, defenseless Frosty? Yeah, I'm fine."

"I guess Bjork will have her day," Jess stated.

"Yes, she will," Rory agreed with a satisfied smile.

There was a brief silence as they both looked at each other – faces flushed from the cold, plumes of frosted air appearing with each breath they released. Finally, Jess broke eye contact and said with a grin, "Well, now that that's taken care of –." Kneeling down, he grabbed another handful of snow and started an all-out war with Rory. They darted back and forth among the snow-people, being careful not to hurt any of the other contenders, striking blow after blow until both of them were covered in snow. 

After delivering a particularly on-target blow against Jess's left arm, Rory scurried to hide and bent down to re-arm herself. As she rose and moved to throw her new snowball, she was surprised to find him bent over just feet away from her, preparing his own weapon. Maniacally grinning in a way that would have made her mother proud, Rory stealthily approached and was just about to drop the snowball down the back of Jess's jacket when he realized she was close and jerked around to stop her attack. His action threw her off-balance, nearly sending her flailing to the ground. At the last second, however, he was able to grab her arms and prevent her from falling. They were both laughing as she planted her feet firmly on the ground and stopped to catch her breath. 

Smiling, she looked up at him. Without even thinking, she said the first thing that came to mind. "You just interrupted what could have been a perfect romantic comedy moment, you know." She wanted to smack herself as soon as she said it.

Too late. Jess stopped brushing the snowball residue off his coat and glanced up at her. He was about to comment when he saw the uneasy expression on her face. Instead, he smirked. "Would've been a little cliché, huh?"

Relieved Jess hadn't read into her comment, Rory smiled and started brushing the snow off her own coat. Noticing her scarf on the ground where it had apparently fallen off during her stumble, she moved to retrieve it. As soon as she shifted position, her foot hit a hidden patch of ice, and she started to fall, instinctively reaching for the nearest object to hang on to. Unfortunately, she caught Jess by surprise. Instead of preventing her fall, he landed with a thud on top of her.

The wind knocked out of both of them, all they could do was gasp for breath. Then, as they started to focus on the situation, they found themselves motionless, surprised at how close they were. Simultaneously, they realized their position and scrambled to their feet without a word. Jess was the first one up, and he offered his hand to assist Rory. Taking it, she stood and, much to her chagrin, found herself face-to-face with him again. After a moment, Jess reached out to brush some snow from her hair, but Rory came to her senses and dodged his move.

Not missing a beat, he said casually, "Apparently, the romantic comedy gods don't appreciate being mocked."

"Yeah, mocking is never really good, you know, especially if you're a god," Rory rambled.

"Next time, we better say twenty Hail Sandras as penance."

"Probably a good idea," Rory agreed, giving him a small smile. 

"So..." Rory said, trying to fill the awkward silence that was quickly taking over.

"So."

"I bet it's really late," she said, knowing she should go but wanting to stay.

"Or early, depending on how you look at it," Jess replied, looking at his watch.

"What time is it?"

"3:30."

"Oh my God, we've been out here an hour and a half?!? Shouldn't we have hypothermia or frostbite or something? What if my mom woke up and noticed I was gone? I better go."

"Okay," Jess answered softly.

"You won't tell anyone about this, will you? I mean, about the whole destruction of property thing."

"It'll be our secret, I promise," he said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

Rory smiled. "I'm glad Bjork will receive her rightful honor."

"It's only fair," Jess agreed.

"Okay, I should go," Rory repeated, stalling.

"You should go."

"Wait, what about you? Aren't you coming?"

"Well, you know Taylor. Once he finds out that someone tampered with the competition, he'll probably go crazy and launch a formal investigation. I'm gonna stay and cover up our tracks, get rid of the evidence."

"Spoken like a true delinquent," Rory teased.

"Night, Rory."

"Night, Jess. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, you will."

With one last smile, Rory turned and headed back towards the Inn. As she walked, she decided that peaceful, solitary sleigh rides were definitely overrated.


	3. Call Me Sydney

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Defending Bjork

Chapter 3: Call Me Sydney

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A/N: Hi All! Sorry for the extremely long delay in updating this fic. I got distracted over the holidays by my collaboration fic with CircleSky, and then I needed some serious recovery time from that whole hectic, whirlwind adventure. But I'm back with a new chapter of "Defending Bjork"! I also revised the first two chapters, and some changes were actually made, so feel free to reread and refresh your memory. I'm thinking of turning this fic into a longer story where I continue with another way things could have gone after "The Bracebridge Dinner." I need to know you guys want me to continue though, so please take a second or two and send me a review. Detailed reviews are loved immensely. *hint hint* Above all else, enjoy the story! That's what it's here for. ~Becka

****

Grinning to himself, Jess ran the toe of his black boot across the snowy ground, covering up the last of the incriminating shoeprints. In the future, when he and Rory decided to break Stars Hollow law, he'd have to make sure they stayed in one, relatively stationary place. They'd left a ridiculous number of tracks in their wake; it'd taken him a good ten to fifteen minutes to cover them up, and he was a professional. He slowly scanned the area for any last evidence. Finally satisfied, he headed back towards the Inn, walking backwards at first, so he could cover up the final footprints he was leaving.

As he strolled back through town, he suddenly found himself with the absurd urge to whistle. Shaking his head despairingly, he really had to wonder what this town was doing to him. If he didn't get out of here and back to civilization soon… A vision of him and Luke in matching, red-and-white, striped jogging suits flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. Before any more disturbing images of his potential future could manifest themselves, he distracted himself with ruminations on what book he should read next. Still undecided, he reached the Inn and opened the door. He still couldn't believe that no one in this town locked their doors. Granted, Stars Hollow wasn't New York City, but a little caution couldn't hurt anything. Then again, the town did have a nice little life-in-a-bubble thing going for it, and they weren't exactly ones to part with tradition. 

A huge gust of chilly wind followed him in as he walked into the lobby, shutting the door quickly behind him. He hadn't realized how cold he was until he entered warmth. His fingers were practically frozen straight, his cheeks and ears were burning, and he felt like he wasn't bending his legs when he walked. He stopped for a moment and held his hands to his ears, thawing them instantly. Looks like he'd live. 

He started to walk towards the staircase that led upstairs when he heard something. He paused, reflecting back on his earlier thoughts of small-town serial killers and cursing the residents of this godforsaken town for not locking their doors. As he listened, he heard a soft clang coming from the kitchen. He briefly considered ignoring it and letting the town get its own rude awakening, but his curiosity got the better of him. He followed the noise, removing his gloves along the way and shoving them into his coat pockets. As he approached the kitchen, the aroma of warming chocolate greeted him. Apparently, small-town serial killers like to bake?

He peeked into the kitchen and immediately smiled. Standing beside the stove, stirring a pot with a small, long-handled, wooden spoon was none other than Rory Gilmore. She was guiding the spoon in circles absent-mindedly and staring off into space, obviously deep in thought about something. He watched her for a moment, noticing that her cheeks were still slightly red from the cold. Her hair, which was usually perfectly combed, was slightly disheveled and tangled from the wind outside. She'd put her coat down on a stool beside the counter, stacking all of her winter accessories on top. One of her mittens had fallen to the floor.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, young lady?" his voice bellowed through the silence

He saw her body jerk in surprise, and she immediately whipped her head towards the door to see who'd caught her. As he saw her blue eyes filled with worry, he regretted that he hadn't made his presence known in a slightly more subtle way.

"Jess! You nearly scared me to death!"

"I can see that," he said as he approached her. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I should have been paying more attention. I guess I'm not very good at this whole 'sneaking around in the middle of the night' thing."

"You're doing all right for a novice. Pressing your luck though, aren't you?"

"I live on the edge," she retorted, throwing his earlier words back at him.

He smiled and moved to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Making hot chocolate."

"It's almost four in the morning."

"Which is why this isn't coffee."

"Point taken," Jess conceded, now standing beside her, leaning back against the counter. "But that still doesn't explain why you're making hot chocolate at four in the morning."

"I was cold."

"And?"

"My mom might be a little suspicious if the bed started vibrating."

"Ah."

"Yeah, I don't really want to explain to my groggy mother why I'm shivering like I just participated in an Arctic Expedition."

"Well, you _could _always just go with that angle."

Rory smiled and turned back to her stirring.

"So what is this? Swiss Miss?"

"Sookie's homemade specialty."

"Ah."

"Sometimes the bus from Chilton is freezing in the winter, so she keeps it around for me to have when I come here after school."

"The joys of public transportation."

"Exactly."

"So, do I get any?"

"Well…" Rory hedged, her eyes twinkling.

"C'mon, who just saved you from Taylor Doose, self-appointed judge, jury, and executioner?"

"You just wanted to commit the perfect crime. It had nothing to do with me."

"It didn't?"

"Nope."

"See if I ever aid and abet you again."

Rory grinned and switched off the heat on the stove. Then, she turned fully to face Jess. "Okay, you can have some— " Jess started to interject, but Rory stopped him. "On one condition…"

Jess smirked. "Which is?"

"Marshmallows. Find them."

"Oh, I'm Sherlock Holmes now?" he teased.

"I guess we'll see." 

"Okay, fine," Jess answered, immediately moving around the kitchen and opening cupboard doors.

Taking occasional glances at his search out of the corner of her eye, Rory lifted the pan from the stove and began pouring the steaming liquid into the two mugs she'd put on the counter earlier.

"A-ha!" Jess said proudly. "White or colored?"

"Umm… well…"

"C'mon, Gilmore, this isn't life-or-death."

"That's what you think." She thought for a moment and then decided, "White. The pastels are too wild and crazy for someone who's trying to wind down."

Jess grabbed the bag of marshmallows and walked towards her. "You worry me sometimes."

"I didn't know you cared," she retorted.

"I'm not worried about you. It's obvious you're crazy. I'm worried about my safety when I'm around you. Here," he said, pouring a handful of marshmallows into her mug.

"That's all you've got?"

"More?"

"Yes please," she said sweetly.

Jess poured about 10 more marshmallows into her hot chocolate.

"More," she urged, waving her hand expectantly.

"Seriously?"

"Does this look like the face of a kidder?" she asked, pointing at her dead-serious expression.

"You act like your mother when you're sleep-deprived. There, is that enough?"

Rory looked into her mug, which was now chock-full of miniature marshmallows. Glancing up at him, she smiled. "For now."

Shaking his head, he poured a few marshmallows into his mug. "Hey, you already had two mugs out!" 

"So you **are** Sherlock Holmes."

"You planned to give me some all along."

Rory shrugged noncommittally and sat on an empty stool, sipping her hot chocolate.

Jess took off his coat and sat beside her. "So, we're gonna be the walking dead tomorrow."

"Don't worry. After last night, no one is gonna be getting up before noon. We'll still get a good eight hours."

"You maybe. I'm in a room with Luke. The man puts early birds to shame."

"I bet he'll let you sleep."

"Yeah, maybe."

They sat in comfortable silence, both drinking their hot chocolate. After a while, Rory looked at him. "Do you think anyone will figure out that we wrecked Frosty?"

"Nah."

"You're sure?"

Jess glanced up at her. "You'll be free and clear, I promise."

"Are you suggesting you'd be my Sydney Carton, Jess Mariano?" Rory teased.

Jess studied her face for a second, and then he turned his attention to his mug. He wanted to say something, but he didn't quite know how or if he should. He sighed. "I can think of worse things to be," he said softly.

Rory didn't know what to say. She just watched him as he stared into his mug, casually running the fingers of his right hand along the handle. After a while, he looked back up at her, and their eyes met. Rory briefly held his gaze but then looked away. She sighed, not knowing what to do. Finally, Jess broke the silence.

"You done?"

"What?" Rory asked, looking at him in confusion.

"With your hot chocolate? Are you done?"

"Oh… yeah," Rory answered, glancing at her empty mug for confirmation.

"Here," Jess said, taking the mug from her hand and standing. As he moved to the sink, she followed him with her eyes. He rolled up his sleeves, turned on the water, and began rinsing them out.

"You don't have to do that," she stated, her voice coming out more timid that she'd planned.

He eyed her over his shoulder. "I don't mind. I'm used to it."

"Oh, right. The diner." She watched him for another moment and then walked over to where he stood. "Here, I'll dry."

"If you insist," he said, handing her a sparkling clean mug.

After they were done, she put the towel away, and he put the mugs and the marshmallows back in their respective cupboards. Then, they looked at each other awkwardly.

"I guess I should get to bed," Rory announced.

Jess smirked. "Déjà vu."

"Maybe this time I'll actually make it there."

"I think you just might."

Rory smiled at him as she gathered her things together. Then, she turned back to him. "Um… thanks for tonight. Helping us win the contest and everything. It was fun."

"You know, Rory," he pointed out. "Now that you've let your inner bad girl out, you're gonna have a hard time getting rid of her."

"I'm always up for a challenge."

"Challenges can be good," he agreed, looking her straight in the eyes.

The sudden conviction on his face jarred her, and she had a hard time looking away.

"Okay," she sighed reluctantly. "Goodnight, Jess."

"Night."

His eyes trailed her movements as she walked to the kitchen door and disappeared. Then, he moved to go to his own room, suddenly exhausted. As he walked, he noticed Rory's mitten on the floor. He was about to call after her but decided that wasn't the best idea. The last thing he wanted to do was blow her cover. Instead, he picked it up, placed it in his coat pocket, and headed to bed.


	4. Immaculate Misdemeanors

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 4: Immaculate Misdemeanors

__

A/N: Because it took me soo long to update last time, I'm giving you guys two chapters in two days. Don't get too used to it though. *chuckle* I'm not THAT good. Even though this part concludes "The Bracebridge Dinner," it isn't the end of this fic. Don't worry. There'll be more. I want to give a shout-out to my little sister for reading the chapters for me and assuring me that they aren't crap. I appreciate it. Enjoy! Oh, and review. I deserve it after all this hard work, no? ;) ~Becka

****

"Jesus!" Jess groaned in annoyance, yanking the blankets up over his head in an effort to block out the blinding sunlight that was now streaming in through the unobstructed windows. "Do you mind?"

"What?" Luke asked, his gruff voice carrying through the mound of blankets.

"Some of us are _trying_ to sleep."

"You can't still be tired! It's 8 in the morning. You got at least nine hours of sleep."

"Go away!" Jess ordered, his command losing some of its force, given its muffled tone.

"Aren't you Mary Sunshine this morning?" Luke teased.

"I'm serious, Luke. Go away!"

Grinning, Luke approached the bed and grabbed the blankets off Jess's head. Jess immediately squinted against the bright light, and his arm flew up to cover his aching eyes. Once he'd recovered slightly from the shock of the morning, he sat up a little, leaned back on his elbows, and shot his uncle a look of death. Then, through clenched teeth, he said angrily, "I'm warning you. Juvenile delinquency is a slippery slope, and I'm fast approaching homicidal levels."

"Good to know you wake up a smart ass. Wouldn't want you to waste any time."

"You mean like what you're doing right now?" Jess shot back.

Luke scowled. "Go back to sleep."

"Gladly," Jess answered as he whipped his pillow off the bed, lay back down, and crushed it across his face.

"Smothering. Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Are you still here?" Jess asked in annoyance.

Chuckling, Luke shook his head and walked from the room.

***

"Wake up, Pretty Girl," Lorelai sang from where she was kneeling by the side of the bed.

Laboriously, Rory dragged her eyes open and looked at her mother. "Morning," she mumbled.

"Afternoon, actually."

"Really?" Rory asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Yup. You sure were sleeping there, Missy. I thought Freddy sucked you into his world forever."

"You promised never to mention that movie again."

"Oops, right. Forgot. Remind me not to let my next child watch that at the tender age of ten."

"If I forget, Child Protection's still watching you."

"Mm… right. Guess I should go take those sharp knives out of the crib then."

Rory smiled and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. "Is anyone up yet?"

"Everyone's just getting moving. Except Luke. According to Michel, he was up and reading the paper at eight this morning."

"Poor Jess," Rory crooned, shaking her head sympathetically.

"What?"

"Nothing. I better go take a shower."

"Good idea. The continental brunch buffet is being laid out as we speak, so you better hurry if you want some scones."

"There are scones?"

"There just might be," Lorelai said, smiling knowingly.

"I'm up!"

"That's my girl!"

***

"Wow! I don't know if I've ever seen this much food in one place," Rory said in awe, gazing wide-eyed at the massive brunch buffet.

"What about the time you and your mom insisted on taste testing every brand of chocolate bar in an effort to find **the** perfect candy bar?" Lane asked.

"Nope, doesn't compare. You know, we never could decide between Snickers and Zero."

"The Zero bar, a retro classic," Lane confirmed, nodding. 

"Yes, true. But Snickers really satisfies," Rory pointed out.

"I can see how the choice could be difficult."

"Impossible."

"Wow, this **is** a lot of food," Lane agreed.

"I know. I don't even know where to start."

Lane hands her a plate. "The pastries, my friend. One always starts at the pastries."

"Of course, I must be losing my mind."

"An empty stomach and three tables full of food can do that to a person."

"Lane!" a voice yelled from behind the girls.

"Uh-oh. Mama Kim heading this way," Rory narrated. "Quick, put down the cinnamon roll. There's still time."

Slyly, Lane turned to face her mother, returning the cinnamon roll she held behind her back to the serving platter.

"Mama," Lane greeted her, smiling.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Kim asked.

"Just talking with Rory and getting some breakfast."

Mrs. Kim peered around them at the tables. "There's nothing here you should eat. You'll eat at home."

"Yes, Mama."

"C'mon, let's go. Goodbye, Rory. Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Kim. Thanks for coming," Rory replied graciously.

"Okay," Mrs. Kim said with a slight nod of her head. Then, she turned and left the serving area.

"Bye, Rory," Lane sighed. "Thanks for the save."

"Anytime."

Lane quickly brought her fingers to her mouth and licked off the frosting left behind by the cinnamon roll.

"Wow, that's good!" she enthused.

"I'll save you one for later."

"You're such a good friend."

"I try. You better go." 

Lane smiled and ran to catch up with her mother.

***

Jess strolled down the stairs and into the Inn's entrance, going completely unnoticed by any of the other visitors as they milled about and chatted with one another. He held his coat behind his back, trying to hide it from view. He was so tired last night that he'd forgotten to leave it downstairs where everyone expected it to be. So much for the perfect crime.

Glancing around furtively, he walked casually towards the coat rack. He was within a few feet of it when a voice startled him.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Luke proclaimed.

Rolling his eyes, Jess turned to face him. "Huh, if it isn't Mr. Fussy."

"Huh?"

"Actually, you kind of l0ok more like Mr. Brave," Jess observed. "But, as far as your personality, I'd go with Mr. Fussy. Or maybe Mr. Grumble. I haven't quite decided yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain it when you're older."

"You do that," Luke said, deciding it was best to just ignore his nephew. "So, was thirteen hours enough for you?"

"I was shooting for fourteen, but, you know me, I'm not really the achieving type."

Luke glanced down and saw the coat clutched in Jess's hand. "What's that? You think you're ditching out of here early or something?"

"Aw, would you miss me, Uncle Luke? I feel so special."

"You're not leaving 'til I can leave," Luke said, pointing at Jess. "And Lorelai said I can't leave until I say goodbye."

"She'll see you in a few hours at the diner," Jess retorted.

"I know, but you know Lorelai. When she gets a thought into her head, logic is useless."

Jess smirked. "How does it feel, Uncle Luke?"

"How does what feel?" 

"Being Lorelai's patsy."

"I am **not **Lorelai's patsy."

"Right," Jess chided. "I'm sure you came to this thing for the fancy food."

"Stop."

"Like squash soup, do you, Uncle Luke?"

"Are you done?"

"And then, to top it all off, you can't leave without saying goodbye. That's soo precious."

"I'm not letting you leave, no matter what you say, so you might as well shut up and give your coat to the nice coat … rack … guy… or whatever… over there," he said, gesturing in the general direction of the front door.

"Fine," Jess griped. "If you promise I can watch you swoon at Lorelai's feet later."

"Go!" Luke ordered.

Pleased with himself, Jess walked over to the coat rack. As he was about to hand his coat to the man, he remembered Rory's mitten. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled it out. Then, he absentmindedly handed the coat over and searched the rack for Rory's jacket. Not finding it, he sighed and glanced around the rest of the lobby. He was about to give up when he saw a pile of luggage on the floor in a corner. Judging from the Powerpuff Girls backpack, he was pretty sure it was exactly what he was looking for. Checking for witnesses, he walked over. Right below the backpack was Rory's coat. He grinned and reached down, shoving the mitten into the pocket. 

***

After brunch, Rory was standing with her mother, busy saying goodbye to their guests, when she heard Clara, Dean's sister, call out to her.

"Thanks, Rory."

Walking over to them, Rory smiled. "Clara, I'm glad you came."

"So I'll see you later," Dean confirmed, giving his girlfriend a wide smile.

"Don't kiss," Clara pleaded.

"Aw, come on." 

"Don't kiss," she repeated.

Dean paused, then covered Clara's eyes. Rory leaned forward, placed her hands on either side of his face, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Come on," Clara said, pulling on Dean's sleeve impatiently.

"So I guess we're off," he said to Rory as he was pulled away by his sister.

"I guess so."

Rory smiled as she watched Dean go and then had just turned to locate her mother when her eyes fell on Jess. She hadn't seen him all morning, but, then again, she'd been distracted playing assistant hostess for the Inn's guests. Jess glanced up at that moment and met her gaze, his mouth turning up in a half-smirk. He quickly looked in the direction of Dean and then turned back to her, amusement dancing in his eyes. She wasn't sure if he was hinting at their Dean-related conversation the night before or if he was subtly reminding her of her little foray into criminal activity. Either way, the wild pounding of her heart as he looked at her made her nervous, and she looked away.

"Bye, you guys!" Lorelai said, breaking off her conversation with Luke. Jess turned and followed his uncle to the door, and Rory turned her attention to her mother. "Ugh, let's go home," Lorelai urged.

"Are we coming to get our bags later?"

"Why?"

"Because we're walking home," Rory pointed out. "I don't want to carry 'em."

"Who says we're walking?"

***

Minutes later, Lorelai and Rory were riding across town in a horse-drawn sleigh.

"This is the only way to ride," Lorelai gushed.

"I wholeheartedly agree."

Smiling, Lorelai looked around town. Her eyes soon fell on the once-glorious, now-demolished snow sculpture extraordinaire. "Whoa, what happened there?"

Rory followed Lorelai's gaze. Then, with her eyes glinting devilishly and her mouth turned up in a satisfied, amused smirk, she glanced at her mother. "I have no idea," she stated innocently.

"Bad news for ringer guy," Lorelai said. Then, grinning wildly, she added, "But guess who wins by default?"

"I guess that would be us," Rory said, smiling as she turned in her seat to gaze over the back of the sleigh at the destruction she and Jess had wreaked.


	5. Bouffant or Bust

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 5: Bouffant or Bust

__

A/N: I got a little carried away with this chapter. As opposed to the usual 5 or 7-page length, it's … um … 15. I considered breaking it up into smaller chapters, but the truth of the matter is that there wasn't a logical place to break. Plus, it usually takes me awhile to update, so I figure this is my gift to all of you. Hopefully, you all actually want it. I have to admit that the sad number of reviews for Chapters 3 and 4 disappointed me. I really want you all to enjoy this story, and I have no clue, at this point, if you are or not. So please review! Thanks to Melissa AKA TrueBlueHealer for always accidentally triggering ideas in my brain. You're a bigger help than you probably realize. Enjoy… review! ~Becka

"Mom! Come on!" Rory yelled up the stairs impatiently. "We're gonna be late."

"Just one more minute," Lorelai shouted back.

"What are you doing up there? You looked fine."

"Since when is 'fine' satisfactory? Haven't I always told you that anything less than 'ravishing' is a crime?"

Rory groaned. "I'm going to leave without you if you aren't down here in exactly five seconds." She lifted her wrist to count down the time on her watch. "Five, four, three, two, on—"

"All right, all right," Lorelai said as she hurried down the stairs. "You know, someday Joan and Melissa are going to be waiting outside our door with their microphones and keen fashion faux pas detectors at the ready, and you're going to regret that you didn't take my advice."

Rory grabbed her mother's coat and handed it to her. "Given Joan's track record with names, I don't think I need to worry. For her own good though, Peri Gilpin should be making sure I'm always looking my best."

"Missy would know your name, missy. You'd be exposed as a fashion fiasco; I'd be forced to disown you before your reputation tainted my good standing in the fashion community."

"I'll take my chances."

"Mark my words, you'll live to regret entrusting such important matters to fate."

Rory smiled and shook her head, then looked up and finally took in her mother's appearance. "What did you do?" 

Lorelai adopted an innocent expression, her eyes gleaming. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Your hair!" Rory exclaimed, reaching out to touch it. "I didn't know teasing could make it that pouffy. And it's crunchy. How much hairspray did you use?"

"How much did we have left in the bottle?"

"You look like…" Rory began.

"Tracy Turnblad?" Lorelai offered.

"No… bigger."

"Dolly Parton circa the 70s?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner, ladies and gentleman," Rory crooned. 

"Gotta love that Dolly."

"This is not good," Rory frowned. "Why did you do this?"

"The tiara just wouldn't look right without it."

"The tiara? What tiara?"

"The tiara they're gonna give us when we win the Snowman Building Contest," Lorelai answered, acting as though it were a widely known fact.

"They aren't going to give us a tiara."

"How could they not?" Lorelai asked, aghast and openmouthed at the mere suggestion. "A contest isn't a contest without the climactic bestowing of the prized tiara."

"I'm not even going to try to argue you on this. Go! Shoo! Get rid of the scary hair," Rory ordered, waving her hand.

"No time," Lorelai replied with a wide grin. "You said yourself we're gonna be late."

"You're going out like that?" Rory asked.

"Yep," Lorelai affirmed, smirking devilishly.

"Out in public?" Rory reiterated.

"That's generally what one does when 'going out,' sweetie."

"You're walking ten paces behind me."

"Nope," Lorelai disagreed, smiling impishly as she linked her arm with her daughter's and pulled her out the door.

***

"I still can't believe you're walking around in public with that hair," Rory said, glancing up again at the high mound of frizz and teasing atop her mother's head. 

Lorelai smiled down at her. "I still can't believe you're walking around in public with someone with this hair."

"Hey," Rory protested, trying to pull away. Unfortunately, Lorelai's tightened hold on her arm prevented her from moving even an inch. Rory sighed halfheartedly and walked alongside her mother towards the crowd that had gathered beside the snow-person contestants. 

As they approached, Rory glanced at the group and tried to pick out faces. Miss Patty was off on the perimeter of the gathering, presumably trying to catch the eye of some lucky male. Kirk was front-and-center, tapping his foot and looking around impatiently as if he would explode if the winners weren't announced that very second. Taylor stood on a podium in front of the crowd, wearing a proud, self-important expression. Rory smiled at the sight of all her favorite townspeople, but she still searched, looking for one face in particular. 

She was about to give up when her eyes wisely wandered away from the crowd. He was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed indifferently over his chest. The bored expression on his face suggested he'd rather be watching paint dry than witnessing a Stars Hollow tradition. She watched him closely, thankful that the distance between them allowed her to stare unnoticed. Apparently growing tired of watching Taylor tap on the microphone, Jess gazed down at the zipper of his jacket and absentmindedly started bumping his back against the trunk of the tree. Rory grinned, noting that he looked like a little, rambunctious boy who'd just been scolded and told not to venture a step away from the tree but who desperately wanted to do just that simply to defy authority. 

"Lorelai, sugar! Why, I haven't seen hair like that since my pageant days. Ain't that a blast from the past."

"You were in pageants, Babette?" Lorelai asked. Rory drew her eyes away from Jess and looked curiously at Babette.

"Aw, yeah," Babette said, waving her hand as if it were no big deal. 

"Wow!" Lorelai exclaimed.

"Did you ever win?" Rory asked.

"Nah, the talent is always what got me. People those days just didn't appreciate a good dramatic reading of 'Oedipus'."

"Oedipus?" Lorelai repeated incredulously.

"Of course, sugar. Kneeling on a stage, stabbing your eyes out always brings a tear or two to the judges' eyes."

"You think they were laughing?" Lorelai whispered in Rory's ear.

"Safe bet," Rory mumbled back.

"What was that, sweetie?"

"Oh, nothing," Rory said guiltily.

Babette adopted a faraway look and shook her head sadly. "I never understood why I didn't win. They seemed so moved."

"They just didn't know what to do with such talent," Lorelai assured her.

"That hair does bring back memories though. I wonder if I have some hairspray."

"They sell it at Doose's," Lorelai offered helpfully.

"I bet I have time to grab some before the winners are announced," Babette said before hurrying off towards the store.

"Did I or did I not tell you that I would start a craze?"

"I admit it," Rory answered in mock defeat. "Tomorrow, it'll be bouffant or bust."

"Of course, by then I'll have moved on to the pageboy. After all, a girl's gotta stay one step ahead of the trends."

"Naturally."

"Is this thing on?" Taylor bellowed into the microphone. "People! Settle down. Please bring all talking to a minimum."

"Here goes, sweets," Lorelai cheered excitedly, grabbing Rory's hand.

"Welcome to the Awards Ceremony of the 10th Annual Stars Hollow Snowman Competition," Taylor announced. A spattering of applause began to break out.

"Snow-Person," Kirk said loudly, cutting off the clapping.

"What was that?" Taylor asked.

"Snowman is sexist. You should say Snow-Person."

"Kirk, I never knew you were for women's rights," Lorelai exclaimed.

"I'm for the rights of all living organisms, Lorelai."

"Even silverfish because I can't really find a single, redeeming quality."

"Yes, even silverfish," Kirk reprimanded. "Just because we petty humans can't see their worth does not mean they're unworthy of basic civil liberties."

"Okay, but how about…"

"Oh, for goodness sake," Taylor interrupted in exasperation. "Fine." He cleared his throat. "Welcome to the Awards Ceremony of the 10th Annual Stars Hollow Snow-_Person_ Competition." Again, applause broke out.

"Should you really call it a competition, Taylor?" Lorelai interrupted, winking at her daughter. "Isn't there enough fighting in the world?"

"Give peace a chance," Rory chimed in.

"And what would you suggest I call it?"

"Well, contest is an option," Lorelai suggested.

"Or tournament," Rory offered.

"Yeah, umm… or how about sporting event?" Lorelai said.

"Challenge?"

"Ooh, good one, Rory," Lorelai agreed. "Suggests the task required skill and ingenuity."

"All right, all right," Taylor muttered. He took a deep breath. "Welcome to the Awards Ceremony of the 10th Annual Stars Hollow Snow-Person _Challenge_," he emphasized. There was a long pause, and then, cautiously, everyone began to applaud.

Satisfied, Taylor continued, adopting a gravely serious tone. "While, under normal circumstances, this would be a time of celebration and good cheer, I'm afraid we cannot begin with the distribution of awards quite yet."

Exclamations of disapproval echoed out from the crowd.

"You may boo all you want," Taylor said. "However, it is one of our very own who has altered the competition this year."

Rory suddenly felt a pit of worry form in her stomach. She wanted to glance at Jess but didn't dare risk exposing him as her co-conspirator if she'd been found out. Instead, she stared straight ahead at Taylor as he continued his speech.

"As many of you may know by now, a crime was committed last night." Amid the resulting murmurs, he melodramatically continued on. "Not just an ordinary crime but a crime that tears at the fabric of the community we have so lovingly created. A despicable, cowardly crime committed by what can only be classified as a seasoned criminal. In destroying one of the entries to this contest, this nefarious individual destroyed the certainties of existence that we hold so dear. While destruction of property was part of the felonious act, a greater crime was committed yesterday. It was a crime that may not be tangible or apparent to the naked eye but which strikes at the very core of what we value – a crime against respect, a crime against good will, a crime against morality, a crime against _humanity_."

Rory stared at the ground and felt her cheeks redden as the weight of her conscience began to overcome her.

"I wasn't sure how to go on after this betrayal," Taylor continued. "I considered canceling the competition… er… _challenge_ this year but that would have given the evildoer exactly what he desired."

Upon hearing the use of "he," Rory jerked her head up. She glanced back at Jess, but he was watching Taylor with a look of complete and utter amusement. She turned her head back to the man at the podium.

"Do not be mistaken. We are not dismissing the gravity of this crime, and a formal investigation was launched. However, it dismays me to report that the deviant left no evidence behind and therefore cannot be named."

Rory breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Jess. He was already looking her direction, a smirk playing on his lips. She couldn't help but smile as she returned her attention to Taylor.

"We have no indication of motive. We have no inkling of when or how the crime took place. But, mark my words, the person who displayed such contemptible behavior will eventually slip up and be apprehended." Cheers and applause greeted Taylor's assurance, and he waited until it died down before continuing.

"In an effort to restore the sanctity of the challenge, I sought out the creator of the toppled entry to offer him a chance to recreate what had been destroyed. However, when I tracked him down, I found the unthinkable."

Lorelai looked at Rory with concern. Rory shook her head, equally baffled by this new development.

"I discovered," Taylor began, pausing dramatically. "That he, in fact, was not a resident of Stars Hollow but of _Hartford_." Gasps of surprise and whispers of disapproval traveled throughout the mass of people. "People! People! I know this is shocking news, but please try to remain quiet." The crowd fell silent, and Taylor spoke again.

"With this unexpected revelation, I had no choice but to disqualify the man from the competition."

"Challenge," Kirk corrected.

"Whatever," Taylor dismissed, then without missing a beat, "Therefore, despite the horrors of yesterday, we will carry on as usual. So now… onto the awards…" Wild applause and cheers bellowed into the sky. 

Taylor's serious attitude promptly disappeared, and he began with the awards ceremony. For the next half-hour, he presented various awards, including "Scariest Snow-Person," "Best Use of Color," and "Most Improved." Then, at last, it was time for the announcement of the "Best Snow-Person of 2001." Grinning from ear-to-ear, Lorelai snatched up Rory's hand and squeezed it. Rory squeezed back, equally excited.

"This year," Taylor began. "The entries were all wonderful… well, with a few exceptions. Nonetheless, it was very difficult for the judge to choose the rightful winner. However, after much deliberation, I have chosen the recipient of the Best Snow-Person of 2001 award to be…"

Lorelai and Rory held their breath.

"…Lorelai and Rory Gilmore."

Both women screamed gleefully and hugged, jumping up and down excitedly, while the Stars Hollow residents clapped and whooped in approval.

"Ladies, come up and receive your award," Taylor said, holding the quarter collection protectively in his hands. They ran up onto the podium. Lorelai grabbed the collection from Taylor and handed it to Rory then proceeded to the microphone to make her speech.

***

"Congratulations, you two!" Sookie said, greeting both Lorelai and Rory with hugs after the ceremony was over. 

"No tiara," Lorelai pouted.

"Excuse me?"

"Mom's a little bitter because the winner didn't get a tiara. She was kind of counting on it," Rory explained.

"Oh," Sookie replied. "Is that the explanation for the hair?"

"It is."

"I didn't want to say anything just in case she actually thought she had a look going."

"Hey," Lorelai protested. "I'm standing right here."

"Sorry, sweetie," Sookie apologized. "You looked pretty up there."

"At least the photographer for the paper agreed to wait until tomorrow to take our picture," Rory said with clear relief.

Sookie's face lit up. "Ooh, that'd be something to show the grandkids."

"Okay, you two, enough. Wow! A girl tries to take a risk, and all she gets is grief."

"You know we love you," Sookie said. 

"Yeah, yeah."

"But I gotta run," Sookie continued. "I just put a cake in the oven, and I don't want it to burn. I just had to come see you pick up your prize."

"Wow," Lorelai said, impressed by Sookie's sacrifice. "You really do love us."

Sookie grinned. "Congratulations again." The girls said their good-byes and soon found themselves alone again.

"I really wanted that tiara," Lorelai said, turning to her daughter.

"I know. But we got a coin collection!" 

"Bah!"

"Has anyone ever told you you're hard to please?" Rory asked.

Lorelai thought for a moment. "Never."

"I don't believe that."

Lorelai sighed. "The quarters are pretty cool though, aren't they? Where should we put them?"

Rory was considering the options when she felt a presence behind her. 

"Jess," Lorelai greeted.

"Lorelai."

Rory turned to face him, and, try as she might, she couldn't stop her lips from exploding into a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Jess said, glancing at her before returning his attention to Lorelai and specifically Lorelai's hair. He seemed to want to say something, but instead he turned back to Rory. "It just isn't fun when she makes it so easy."

"It _is_ just screaming, 'Ridicule me! Ridicule me!' isn't it?" Rory answered.

"That and about a hundred other things."

"Looking at your 'do, why do I suddenly want to nickname you 'Pot'?" Lorelai asked sweetly.

Jess smirked and opened his mouth to retort but stopped abruptly. Confused, Rory raised her eyebrow in question. He didn't have to answer though because she immediately felt arms wrap around her waist from behind. Hot breath tickled her ear, and a voice whispered, "Congratulations." 

Rory smiled and turned her head, meeting Dean's gaze. "Thanks. Pretty impressive, huh?"

"_Very_ impressive," Dean said at a normal volume. "How does it feel to be the winner?"

"Hmm," Rory pondered. "I don't think it's sunk in yet. How does it feel to be the boyfriend of the winner?"

"That depends. Do I get to see the quarters?"

"I think that could be arranged," Rory assured him. "If you can pry them from my mom's vice-like grip."

"I'll look from a distance," Dean decided. 

Rory turned in his arms and smiled. "Good idea."

Dean leaned forward and softly kissed her. Rory pulled away quickly then smiled reassuringly at him before turning to their companions. She glanced at Jess, but his expression was unreadable. Nonetheless, she suddenly felt tense… and something else – something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

There was a brief silence as Lorelai looked at Rory and Dean, then Jess, then Rory and Dean again. At last, she decided to save her daughter with a none-so-subtle suggestion. "So, Jess, I bet Luke is swamped now that the ceremony is over."  


"I wouldn't know," Jess said coldly.

"Did I interrupt something?" Dean asked, sending Jess a look.

Rory started to answer, but Jess interjected. "Nope. Nothing at all."

Rory's eyes met his, and she could tell he was irritated. But he knew as well as she did that she couldn't – or maybe just wouldn't – do anything about it. He nodded his head imperceptibly, but they both understood. Jess turned his eyes to Lorelai. "Congratulations, Lorelai."

"Thanks," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

He turned back to Rory and smirked. "Congratulations, Professor Hinkle."

Rory blushed. 

Jess glanced at Dean but said nothing. Then, he turned and walked towards the diner.

***

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Rory assured him. "He just likes to drive me crazy with obscure references. It's like a game to him."

"Trying to prove he's smarter?"

Rory hated herself for doing it and silently apologized to Jess as she lied. "Yeah, he does that."

"So I've noticed."

"Anyway, are you busy?" Rory asked.

"Actually, yeah. I promised Clara I'd take her to the movies. You can come with though."

"That's okay. Clara should get some alone time with her big brother. We can do something later."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Rory assured him.

"Okay, I'll call you later," he said as he leaned forward to give her another quick kiss. "Bye Lorelai! Congratulations."

"See you later, Dean," she said as he strode off in the direction of his house.

Rory watched her boyfriend go – not so much because it was an exciting thing to do as because she could feel her mother's eyes on her, and she didn't want to face the barrage of questions that would surely come. Once Dean was completely out of sight, she knew she had no choice. Sighing, she turned to her mother. Sure enough, Lorelai was looking at Rory, but surprisingly, she said nothing.

"What?" Rory asked.

"Nothing."

"Just say it."

"I don't have anything to say."

"Right," Rory said, not believing her for a second.

Lorelai once again linked her arm with Rory's, and, wordlessly, they walked towards Luke's.

Rory was just beginning to think her mother really wasn't going to say anything when…

"Okay, I tried, but it's killing me. What _was_ that?"

"What was what?"

"The awkward Dean-Jess thing."

"They don't really get along," Rory said simply.

"Okay, I may not be a rocket scientist, but I figured that much out."

Rory sighed. "They almost got into a fight at school."

"When?"

"I don't know exactly. A few days ago, I think."

"Why?"

"Jess was fighting someone…"

"Big surprise," Lorelai mumbled.

Rory ignored it. "And Dean tried to break it up. Jess was confused and took a swing at him."

"Jess was confused?"

"Yeah."

Lorelai made a small, guttural noise.

"What does that mean?"

"I didn't say anything." Lorelai paused. "Okay, so that explains the Dean-Jess exchange, but what was that reference all about? Professor Hinkle?"

"Nothing. It's an inside joke."

"So explain it," Lorelai pressed.

"Then it wouldn't be an inside joke, it'd be an outside joke," Rory weakly pointed out.

"So you and Jess have secret jokes now?"

"No. It's nothing. Really."

"I'm going to figure it out, you know. If you don't tell me, I'll bug you about it for the rest of your life."

"Consider me warned."

"Okay, you asked for it," Lorelai admonished as they continued towards the diner. "Hinkle… Hinkle… now where do I know that name from?" 

Rory tried her best to pretend not to care whether or not her mother figured it out, but internally, she was a bundle of frayed nerves.

"A-ha!" Lorelai said triumphantly, raising a finger in the air like a scientist who'd just discovered a brilliant, new invention. "I knooow whooo it isssss," she sang.

Rory's voice choked out. "Who?"

"Professor Hinkle was the full name of the professor on 'Gilligan's Island'," Lorelai said proudly. She paused. "But why would Jess call you that? Did you make a radio out of a coconut?"

Rory smirked, but it went unnoticed by Lorelai. "No," she answered.

"Was Jess suffering from double vision, so you had to make him a keptibora-berry extract remedy? 

"Nope."

"Did you catch him in a lie using your bamboo lie detector?" 

"Definitely not."

"Ooh, did you make a pedal-powered washing machine? You didn't have to do that, you know; the one we have works just fine."

"Mom."

"Or did you make radiation-safe suits and sunglasses?"

"Mom," Rory said again but a little louder this time.

"Yeah?" Lorelai finally asked.

"I think the name of the professor on 'Gilligan's Island' was Roy Hinkley."

"It was?" Lorelai asked absently, thinking. "Shoot! It was! Okay, fine, but I'm still going to figure it out."

***

The bell above the diner door jingled as Rory and Lorelai walked through, but neither could hear it over the incessant sound of Lorelai's guessing game.

"Oh!" Lorelai said excitedly. "Did you fall asleep for twenty years?"

"How could that have happened? I'm with you practically every second."

"I don't know. Ask Jess. He's the one giving you the weird names. He must know something we don't."

"It might not make sense because that's Rip Van Winkle, not Professor Hinkle," Rory pointed out.

"Right. I guess I should've paid more attention in English class."

Rory shook her head and headed towards a table. 

"Hey, I'm going to figure this out, child. Don't get too comfortable with your 'inside jokes'!" Lorelai finger-quoted before walking to the counter.

***

"Hey Luke!" Lorelai said cheerfully. "Two coffees on the double."

Luke looked up from his pad of paper. Without missing a beat or altering his expression, he gestured towards her hair with the pencil. "Wynonna Judd?"

"Close," Lorelai clarified. "Dolly Parton."

"Ah, of course," Luke accepted, nodding. "It suits you."

"Finally!" Lorelai said happily. "Someone who appreciates a woman's efforts to look good… wait, what do you mean? How does it suit me?"

He chuckled but didn't respond. "Two coffees?"

"In what way does this hairstyle suit me?"

"Do you want the answer or the coffee? I'm not offering both."

Lorelai was conflicted for a second, then said reluctantly, "The coffee."

"Thought so." Luke grabbed two mugs and started filling them to the brim with coffee.

"So how are the quarters doing?" he asked as he poured.

"You know we won?"

"I heard your screams."

"You heard us scream, and you just assumed we won? Maybe we were being attacked by wild jackals."

"You were screaming, 'We won! We won!'"

"Okay, that might've been a minor tip-off. They're fine. Very shiny."

"Good."

"It would've been nice to see you at the awards ceremony."

"Someone had to watch the diner."

"You couldn't close the diner for 45 minutes?"

"Wouldn't have been practical."

"Not even to see your two favorite people win the highest honor in Stars Hollow?"

"I'll read about it in the paper."

Lorelai frowned. "I thanked you, you know."

"Yeah?" Luke asked, surprised.

"Well, not you _per se_, but when I thanked the little people, you were a part of the list in my head."

"Well, thanks," Luke said sarcastically.

"It was the least I could do."

"The very least," Luke agreed.

Lorelai smiled and took a sip of her coffee. "Mmm… my own steamy, love potion."

"Excuse me?" Luke croaked.

Lorelai said dreamily, "Every time I drink it, I fall in love with caffeine all over again."

"You need a twelve-step program and a sponsor."

"You need an attitude adjustment."

"I'll get help if you get help," Luke offered.

"But I like my addiction."

"I like my attitude."

"Guess we're stuck in a rut."

"Seems so. Did you want to order anything else?"

"Hmm… no, not right now. But I do need your help with something."

"Do I want to know?"

"What do you know about Hinkles?"

***

From her seat at the diner table, Rory watched her mother talk to Luke. She could only imagine what they were saying, but, judging by their body language, they seemed to be enjoying each other's company. She smiled and glanced around the rest of the diner. She hadn't seen Jess when they'd walked in, but, as she looked around, she saw him stroll down the stairs by the counter. Luke called him over, and, when he turned, Rory noticed that there was a book stuck in his back pocket. She was curious to know what he was reading today, but she couldn't make out the title. She saw Luke hand Jess one of the coffee mugs and point in her direction. She darted her eyes away immediately, hoping Jess hadn't noticed that she was watching him. She was staring at the worn edge of the table, cursing her slow reflexes, when the mug appeared in front of her eyes. As Jess pulled his hand away, she followed its movement and soon found herself looking directly at him.

"Hey," she said meekly, forcing a smile.

"Hey. Luke asked me to bring this over to you. Apparently, he's too busy flirting with your mom to do it himself."

"Oh. Sorry. You didn't have to," she mumbled. Her eyes returned to the brown liquid before her.

He shrugged. "I didn't have much else to do."

She nodded. There was an awkward silence, and, for the first time ever, Rory wished Jess would disappear just so she wouldn't be so uncomfortable. Of course, she knew that if the genie had granted her that wish, she'd have spent the next two figuring out how to get him back. Resolutely, she looked at him again. "What are you reading?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"Your back pocket. What are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"Oh," she said softly. He'd never done that before. 

"So," he began. "Where's Dean?"

"At the movies."

"Without you? That's awfully suspicious."

"He's with his little sister."

"Sure he is."

"Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Asking questions when you know you don't want the answers."

"How do you know I don't want the answers?"

"Because you get all persnickety just like you are right now."

"Persnickety?" Jess repeated, amused.

"Yes, persnickety. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope, not at all."

Rory sighed. "I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"What?"

"Me and Dean."

"Why do you think that made me uncomfortable?"

"Because…" Rory started. She shrugged. "I don't know, just because."

"I wasn't uncomfortable."

"Oh."

"Disgusted, yes."

"He's my boyfriend."

"Should I buy you a condolence card?"

"Thanks for the coffee, Jess," Rory dismissed, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip.

Jess nodded and turned to go. She wanted to look at him, but she fought the urge and focused on her coffee instead. Even though she couldn't see him, she knew he got only a few feet before he paused and walked back towards her. She still refused to look up. She sensed the movement of his arm reaching out and felt him set something on the table. Then, he walked away. Once he was gone, she glanced over and saw the book from his back pocket resting near the edge of the table. She picked it up and smiled.

*** 

Rory was just able to shove the book in her coat pocket before her mom approached and flopped into a seat at the table.

"I worry about that man," Lorelai said, shaking her head.

"Luke?"

"Yes! Do you know what he thought?"

"That babies come from storks," Rory offered.

"Worse! That the character on 'Hogan's Heroes' was named 'Professor Hinkle'!"

"Oh," Rory grimly replied.

"_Professor_ Hinkle? There aren't even professors in the Armed Forces!"

"He doesn't get out much."

"I'll say. Poor Colonel Klink – to be disrespected like that."

"I told you Luke wouldn't be much help."

"I had faith. Blind, misplaced faith."

"I'm sure it won't happen again," comforted Rory.

"Oh, but despite Luke's pathetic attempts, I think I figured out the name."

"Okay," Rory said hesitantly.

"It worries me a little."

"Why? What are you thinking?"

"Why would Jess be comparing you to a small, scary but harmless dog that poses for calendars and is rumored to be a visitor from another planet?"

Rory burst out laughing.

"What?" Lorelai asked. "Have I missed something all these years? Should you be phoning home? We can grab some Reese's Pieces for the trip."

"Mom," Rory said, trying to adopt a straight face. "That dog is Mr. Winkle _not_ Professor Hinkle."

"Thank God! That's the first time I've been happy to be wrong."

Rory smiled. "I think I'm happy you were wrong too."

"Hey, don't you have to meet Lane about now?"

Rory glanced at her watch. "Oh yeah, I owe her a cinnamon roll." Rory stood up and grabbed her coat. "Dean might call. Could you tell him I'll call him back?"

"Sure thing. Have fun."

Rory walked towards the door, but just as she was about to walk through, Lorelai called after her. "Ooh, Rory! Have you become a purse-carrying, purple Teletubby?"

"That'd be Tinky-Winky."

"Dangit!" Lorelai cursed.

*** 

Later that night, Lorelai lay on the couch, flipping through the television channels. She knew Rory would be back any minute from her date with Dean, and she was desperately trying to stay awake until she got home. "Baywatch," she mumbled, continuing to flick the remote button.

"Informercial. Blind Date. Mmm… not tonight. Informercial. Informercial. Why is there never anything on in the middle of the night?" She kept flipping, quickly going through the channels about ten times before she landed on a movie that had been in commercials during her previous cycles: "Frosty the Snowman." Even though she positively hated the movie the few times she'd seen it, she reluctantly decided to give it another chance. 'Tis the season to be jolly after all, and it wasn't like she had a lot of other choices. She began to watch, dozing off a little, when a name cut through the fogginess of her brain. "Professor Hinkle." She sat upright and stared at the television, hoping to hear it again. Sure enough, Professor Hinkle was the name of a character in the cartoon. In fact, he was the villain who set out to destroy Frosty. Why on earth would Jess call her _that_? Suddenly, mind clearing, it dawned on her. Her mouth fell open. It was just then that she heard Rory at the front door.

She immediately turned off the television and tried to adopt a casual pose. Rory walked into the living room. "Hey. I'm glad you're still up."

"You are?" Lorelai said nonchalantly, fighting to bite her tongue. "How was the date?"

"It was good," Rory replied.

"Good."

"I got you something," Rory said, sitting beside her mother on the couch and holding something behind her back.

Lorelai nearly forgot her recent discovery in her excitement. "Hand it over!"

Smiling, Rory reached up and placed the plastic tiara on Lorelai's head. 

"You didn't!" Lorelai said, nearly tearing up. "You got me a tiara?"

"I know it's not quite as climactic, and your shower ruined the necessary hair…" Rory rambled.

"It's perfect." Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her close, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

They sat there for a while in silence. Finally, Rory glanced up at her mom. "Hey, did you ever figure out the name?" she asked innocently.

Lorelai looked down at her and considered the question for a moment. Then, smiling, she said softly, "Nope, I gave up."


	6. Changing the Rules

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 6: Changing the Rules

__

Disclaimer: I've said it before, but the nature of this chapter warrants it again. I do not own Gilmore Girls, and I have no claim on the portions of actual script found within the confines of this story. I am but a humble fanfic writer, and I use those script moments with the utmost respect for their true authors.

A/N: At last, a new chapter! I meant to get this out sooner, but then I got really, really sick with the flu, and it obviously wasn't happening. But, finally, here it is! Plus, I originally intended to put more in this chapter, so since the rest is already in the front of my mind, the next chapter could be coming out sooner than usual. Emphasis on the 'could', but keep your eyes open. Also, I wanted to thank you all profusely for all the wonderful reviews you posted for Chapter 5; they definitely quelled my worries. If you can, please take the time to review this chapter too. I appreciate it so much. Lastly, a quick shout-out to Rory Potter for saying my fic is 'pimp tyte.' I just loved that compliment. Enjoy, everyone! ~Becka

"How many now?" Lorelai asked, looking expectantly at Rory as they walked side by side towards Doose's Market.

"You're up to nine, but, for the record, I think you should lose points for the constant status checks."

"It's against the rules to change the rules now," Lorelai pointed out.

"Well, maybe I'll just change that rule too."

"Ha! It's a universal rule that _you_ aren't ever allowed to change the rules."

"Says who?" Rory pouted.

"The universe. Where did you think the name of the rule came from?"

"The universe decided that I shouldn't be allowed to change rules?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago."

"Why would the universe do that?" Rory asked.

"Because the universe didn't like how you tried to alter Trivial Pursuit."

"I did _not_ try to alter Trivial Pursuit," Rory argued.

"Excuse me? Since when is Trivial Pursuit played without the use of the board and those cute, little pieces of pie?"

"You wouldn't set up the board."

"Well, I guess I didn't realize you'd lost the use of your arms."

"You were too lazy to set the game up, so I thought it would be easier to just ask each other questions off the cards."

"Likely story," Lorelai scoffed.

"What does that mean?"

"You thought you were gonna lose."

"Why would I think that?"

"Because you were," Lorelai matter-of-factly stated.

"I've never lost to you."

"My, my, aren't we humble?"  


"I haven't. I've never lost Trivial Pursuit to you. Even when I was seven, I won."

"But maybe this time my prayers were about to be answered, and all the squares on the board were going to magically transform to pink."

"I still wouldn't have lost," Rory contended.

"Wow. Someone's getting really cocky about her Trivial Pursuit abilities."

"No, not cocky," Rory haughtily disagreed. "Justifiably self-assured."

"Well, once I get my hands on the movie edition, we'll see who's justifiably self-assured."

"Fine, but for now, can we get back to the task at hand? I believe you were in the middle of a story, Miss Universe."

"Right," Lorelai said, before pausing. "Um, okay…" she faltered, trying with great difficulty to remember where she'd stopped. 

"Sookie had just bounded into the kitchen with a spring in her step and announced that it was time for the yearly Independence Inn spring cleaning," Rory helped.

"And you made with the uh-oh," Lorelai remembered.

"Yes, I did," Rory agreed. "The spring cleaning never goes well."

"Ah yes, and this year, Sookie came up with a plan to try to make it go even worse."

"What plan?" Rory asked.

Lorelai sighed. "She decided that _Michel_ is going to help this year, even if she has to go Jerry Springer on him."

"Michel? Not good."

Shaking her head, Lorelai added sympathetically, "Poor Sookie; I guess hope really does spring eternal."

"She _is_ ever the optimist," Rory agreed.

Now back in the rhythm of the game, Lorelai continued wistfully, "Sookie's no spring chicken, and yet she _still_ somehow manages to maintain that never-ending enthusiasm for life."

"Something us cynics just can't understand," Rory interjected.

"Eh, we're too cynical to care," Lorelai dismissed. "Anyway, after springing her big announcement on me, Sookie marched out of the kitchen. I, of course, being the excellent manager that I am, had to follow, just in case a brawl broke out."

"Wouldn't want to hear about it secondhand."

Lorelai's mouth fell open, aghast. "You're joking, right? _Never!_ So, I'm right behind her, and, as she approaches, I can tell that Michel has a serious case of spring fever. You know, all apathetic and lazy."

"Um, Mom," Rory interrupted, adopting a voice of mock concern. "I think Michel's spring fever might be a chronic condition."

"I keep telling him to see a doctor about it, but he just won't spring into action."

"That sentence was stretching it," Rory evaluated.

"Hey, this is not as easy as it looks," Lorelai complained.

"Okay, okay, I'll let it go."

"Thank you," Lorelai answered. "So Sookie stormed right up to the desk – wound tighter than a spring. I haven't seen her that determined since the time I had to restrain her from attacking that guy who sent back his filet mignon."

"Wasn't that two years ago?"

"Ah yes, but the bruises from her struggling only recently faded. Oh, we're almost there," Lorelai said, her voice picking up speed. "Anyway, to make a long story short…"

"It's a little late for that," Rory said cheekily.

Lorelai ignored her comment and continued, "Sookie got to the desk, and she leaned over and looked Michel _straight_ in the eye and said…"

Curious, Rory waited expectantly, but Lorelai was completely silent, taking full advantage of the dramatic pause. At last, Rory couldn't take it anymore. "What? What did she say?" she asked impatiently.

Lorelai sighed in disappointment, then exclaimed, "Nothing! Can you believe that? She said _absolutely_ nothing. She chickened out at the last second. She stepped back from the desk, turned, and marched back into the kitchen, mumbling something about springing a trap."

"She was _really_ mumbling about springing a trap?" 

"Okay, so I couldn't actually hear the mumbling, but I think 'springing a trap' was muttered at some point."

"If you say so…"

"Sookie went back into the kitchen, and Michel just sat there. It was quite the 'Dolly Dearest' ending," Lorelai moped.

Patting her mother on the shoulder, Rory cooed sympathetically, "I'm sure there'll be bloodshed someday."

"From your lips," Lorelai said mischievously.

Rory smiled. "Time for the final tally?"

"Hey, look!" Lorelai said, pointing past Rory's head. "A springer spaniel."

"Enough!" 

"What can I say, babe. Spring has sprung."

"I never knew so many phrases contained the word 'spring,' but you proved me wrong."

"I am _quite_ impressive," Lorelai proudly agreed. "How many?"

"I think this might be one for the record books. Including the debatable reference to the imaginary springer spaniel, you used the word 'spring' eighteen times in the telling of one story."

"Eighteen? See, who else do you know who can commemorate a change of season in such a creative way _and_ do it so well?"

"No one comes to mind, but you're the only crazy person I know."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, sweetie, you and I both know that isn't true."

Rory grinned knowingly and reached out to open the door to Doose's for her mother. As Lorelai walked through, Rory chuckled.

"What?" Lorelai asked, turning to her daughter.

"You do realize the next season is summer?"

"Yes, and your point is…? Ah!" Lorelai exclaimed, suddenly understanding. "Okay, new rules -- only part of the season has to be used. So, 'sum' would work. Or 'mer'. Or maybe the rule should just be that…" 

***

A short while later, Rory and Lorelai rummaged through a display of woven baskets.

"This one?" Rory asked, holding a rather large basket up for her mom to see.

"Hm, no," Lorelai said quickly.

"Why?"

"It's too big; it raises expectations."

"Like there's actually a home-cooked lunch in there?" 

"Instead of whatever is leftover in our refrigerator," Lorelai said. "Exactly."

"Okay, going back on the pile now," Rory conceded as she set the basket back down and began weeding through the rest of the stack.

"Oh, it's quaint, isn't it?" Lorelai mused while she too searched for the perfect basket. "The women get to make a nice lunch basket, the men get to bid on it, and the world rotates backwards on its axis."

"I think it's fun," Rory disagreed.

"That's because you have a pretty boy to bid on your basket."

Rory smiled happily. "Yes, I do."

"Did you tell him to eat lunch first?"

"Hi, I love him; of course. Hey, I'm gonna look in back."

"All right, I'll hit the front," Lorelai said, heading off in the opposite direction.

*** 

"Not that one," Dean's voice cut through the air in the back of Doose's, startling Rory from her basket hunt.

She smiled and turned to walk towards her boyfriend. "You get no say in the basket."

"I have to bid on it," he pointed out.

"And you have to eat what's inside it, and you get no say in that either."

Dean smiled. "Hey…"

"Yeah?" Rory asked.

"Is Taylor behind me?"

Rory looked behind Dean and grinned. "No." Reaching her hand up to rest on his cheek, she leaned in and softly kissed him. Dean had just begun to return the kiss when a rustle drew Rory's attention and caused her to pull away. She glanced over her boyfriend's shoulder.

"What? Taylor?" Dean asked, turning to see who'd disturbed them. "Jess," he remarked in annoyance.

"Sorry to intrude," Jess said unconvincingly.

"Then why did you?" Dean asked.

"Well," Jess began. "You're having your vertical 'From Here to Eternity' moment right in front of the super glue."

"Oh," Rory weakly replied. 

"Not that that's not an appropriate place to be doing it in front of but – "

"Here's your glue," Dean interrupted, handing Jess the package.

"Thanks… as you were," Jess said, shooting Rory an unreadable look before walking away.

"I really hate that guy," Dean said, once Jess was gone.

Rory drew her eyes from Jess's retreating back and tried to focus on her boyfriend. "He didn't do anything."

"He's here; he's breathing. That's enough."

Rory sighed. "I really wish you two could start over."

"Why?"

"Because he lives here, and we run into him. He goes to school here," Rory rambled. "I just think it'd be easier."

"I'm fine with the whole 'hating him' thing, thank you."

"I just think it's a waste of energy," Rory tried again.

"You know, I'll have a Power Bar."

"Fine, forget it," Rory dismissed, giving up.

"So, uh, I should probably get back to work. We still on for tonight?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Rory teased. "I might be baking."

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said, smiling. Then he glanced around and pointed at a basket. "Get that one, it's nice and small."

"Bye," Rory said, giving him another quick kiss before he left. She watched him go, then turned to resume her search.

"God!" she yelled, surprised to find Jess suddenly standing right next to her.

"Sorry," he halfheartedly apologized as he reached for another super glue. "Two for one sale." He smirked and walked away, leaving a flustered Rory staring after him.

***

"Here's the glue," Jess said, tossing the two packages on the counter in front of Luke. "Next time you need an errand boy, call Kirk."

"You bought two."

"Wow, Uncle Luke, I'm impressed. Think next week you'll be able to count to five?"

"Why did you buy two?" Luke asked, ignoring Jess's remarks.

"There was a two-for-one sale."

"I only needed one."

"The other one was free," Jess explained, growing annoyed.

"Since when does Taylor give anyone anything for free?"

"You think I'm lying about Super Glue?" Jess asked in disbelief.

"I didn't say that."

"Whatever," Jess dismissed.

Luke eyed him suspiciously. "You aren't planning anything, are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't wanna hear about any Super Glue-d doorknobs."

"Huh. Thanks for the idea. Not very creative, but it could work."

"Jess…" Luke warned.

Jess held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, it wasn't my idea."

"You can't keep doing this."

"What?"

"Making trouble."

"The second glue was _free_," Jess emphasized. "But believe whatever you want to believe. Self-delusion is obviously a prerequisite for living here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are we done?"

"Did something happen?" Luke asked.

"This interrogation is really fun and all, but do you think I could just get back to work now?"

"Here," Luke said, handing Jess the coffeepot. "Refill the table by the window."

Without another word, Jess took the coffeepot and walked away. Luke's confused gaze followed Jess across the room. After a second, he sighed and, taking the glue packages from the counter, went in back.

***

"What's a girl gotta do to get some service around here?" Lorelai called loudly in Jess's direction as she flopped onto a stool beside Rory and set her newly purchased basket on the counter.

Jess slyly glanced at them but remained among the tables, taking orders from customers who'd been in the diner longer.

"Luke!" Lorelai yelled. "We're being ignored."

Luke emerged from in back and quickly searched for Jess. Seeing that he was indeed feigning obliviousness, he grabbed some mugs and began pouring them coffee. "Sorry 'bout that," he apologized.

"Should we buy him a hearing aid?" Lorelai asked. Rory, meanwhile, stole a glance at Jess, hoping to make eye contact, so she could try to determine what was wrong. Unfortunately, his back was turned.

"Nah. He's just… I don't know," Luke muttered.

"Enough said," Lorelai answered in understanding. As Luke set the mug in front of her, she grabbed her basket and moved it to the floor.

"You're actually going to participate in that auction thing?" he asked.

"Don't we always?"

"I thought you might've come to your senses."

"Nope," Lorelai said, taking a sip of her coffee. "We're selling ourselves like streetwalkers, just like every other year. Thank God they added the whole basket twist; it makes us feel less cheap."

"Now we're _high_ class call girls," Rory threw in, smiling.

"The type that gets to hang out in the sleazy businessman's penthouse instead of the back of his car. We're movin' up in the world, kiddo."

"That we are," Rory agreed.

"So Luke, any chance you'll be purchasing a lady's _basket_ on Sunday, if you know what I mean."

"Definitely not."

"I hear Taylor is considering making a basket this year," Lorelai teased. "You sure you don't wanna get in on that action."

"Is she gonna stop anytime soon?" Luke asked, directing his question at Rory.

"Probably not. Just ignore her; I always do."

"See if I'll help you with your basket," Lorelai threatened.

"I can already hear Dean thanking me."

"Are your devil's horns getting more pointy as you get older?" Lorelai asked her daughter. "Or is it just me?"

"Just you," Rory grinned.

"Okay, good," Lorelai said happily. "Hey Luke, can we get two to-gos? We have some baking to do."

"I'll put the fire department on alert," he quipped, handing them the carryout cups.

"They're actually already waiting for us at home. But if you see smoke, bring marshmallows," Lorelai said, grinning like a lunatic.

"Keep her away from that oven," Luke whispered to Rory.

"Don't worry; I unplugged it," Rory whispered back, grabbing her basket and following her mother out the door.

As soon as the Gilmores were gone, Jess strolled towards the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. Luke had turned to start a new pot of coffee percolating, just as he had to do after every visit from Lorelai and Rory. 

"Uncle Luke," Jess said, leaning his back against the counter.

"Next time they come in here, you serve them. No excuses," Luke ordered, not looking up.

"Whatever," Jess replied. "Can I borrow some money?"

Luke finally turned to him, astonishment written all over his face. Seeing Jess's smile, he was even more bewildered. "Why are you smiling?"

Jess shrugged. "Day just got better."

"I hid the Super Glue," Luke pointed out.

"Maybe it was a three for one sale." At Luke's warning glare, Jess added, "Relax. I was kidding."

"You don't need any money. I pay you."

"I know, but I don't have any cash. I'll pay you back."

"Go to the bank," Luke suggested.

"It's closed."

"Find an ATM."

"Right," Jess scoffed. "This town just got its first stoplight; I seriously doubt it has an ATM."

"What do you need money for?"

"Geez, it's just a loan. Would you rather I go find an old lady and mug her?"

"Fine," Luke reluctantly agreed. "Take some money out of the till, but you better pay it back. And don't take more than $20. I'm going in back. If a customer comes in, no matter who it is, serve them."

Jess waited until Luke was in back, then he opened the register and removed five $20 bills. Shoving them in his pocket, he grabbed the order pad and headed towards a table.


	7. Conspiracy Theories

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 7: Conspiracy Theories

__

A/N: Well, I said this chapter might arrive sooner than usual, and, unfortunately, it didn't. I was suffering from a bout of writer's block like nothin' else. I never thought I'd break through, but, at last, I did. As you'll quickly discover, actual script moments are included again, but things are slowly changing, little by little. Hopefully, you all will find this chapter to your liking, and, subsequently, leave me a review. Heck, even if you have not-so-great things to say, I guess I'll take those too. But above all else, ENJOY! Oh, and a little warning… if you don't want to know the endings to some of literature's classics, you might not want to read this. But, you know, who doesn't know the endings already, really? Thank you to AvidTVfan, kimlockt, and my sister for being so dang cool. Now, on with the story… ~Becka

"Can you believe the crowd out there?" Luke asked as he returned from wiping down a table.

Jess sighed in annoyance and reluctantly looked up from his book. He glanced over his shoulder at the mostly empty tables and then turned back to his uncle. "Are you losing it? There's barely anyone in here."

"Not in _here_. Out there," Luke answered, gesturing towards the window through which a group of people could be seen gathering around the gazebo.

"This town's crazy. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Jess retorted, feigning disinterest. He glanced at his watch quickly, then returned his attention to his book.

Luke chuckled in concession and moved his eyes to the window again. As the crowd grew even bigger, he shook his head and turned around, unconsciously leaning his back against the counter in a pose eerily similar to Jess's. He glanced at his nephew. "The lunch crowd should be coming soon."

"I can barely contain my excitement," Jess said, emotionless, before turning around and leaning his elbows on the counter, his book still open between his hands. He pretended to read as he stole glances out the window in an attempt to gauge when the auction was going to start. He saw Taylor begin his ritual, pre-speech microphone tapping, and he knew time was running out.

Blessedly, Luke had given up on trying to make conversation and was now brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Jess closed his book and shoved it into his back pocket. He watched Luke disdainfully for a second and then muttered something inaudible.

"What's that?" Luke asked, turning around.

"Nothing," Jess lied. After a pause, he continued, however, "Have you ever considered changing your name to Kathie Lee?"

"What?"

"It's just you really seem to have the inhumane child labor thing down."

"This again?" Luke moaned.

"You said I could have today off."

"Caesar was late, it was busy, and you were here," Luke explained.

"Caesar's here now, and the place is deserted."

"And the lunch crowd's coming any minute."

"They're all buying picnic baskets."

"Not if they're sane."

"You actually think there's more than a handful of sane people left?"

"Probably not," Luke conceded. "But you're still staying."

"Whatever," Jess replied bitterly, retrieving his book from his pocket and opening it to where he'd left off.

Sighing, Luke went in back. When he re-emerged a few minutes later, Jess was waiting on a customer. Luke watched him, surprised at Jess's attempts to be marginally polite. Truth was, Jess hadn't been getting into quite as much trouble lately… or maybe he was just covering his tracks better. Either way, the Jess he'd met a few months ago wouldn't have cared if he'd told him to stay or not. 

Nodding, Jess scribbled something on the pad of paper and headed towards the counter to pass the order on to Caesar. Luke stopped him and took the pad of paper out of his hand. 

"Fine," he said simply.

"Fine what?" Jess asked, confused.

"Caesar and I can handle the rush."

Without another word, Jess walked to the door, grabbed his jacket, and left before Luke could change his mind.

***

Exiting the diner, Jess walked quickly to the town square. A few baskets had been auctioned off during the time he'd been stuck at Luke's, but he was pretty sure that Rory's wasn't among them. He hung back a ways from the crowd and watched as Lane's basket went for a paltry five dollars. He almost felt bad for her until he saw the gleeful expression on her face. Apparently he -- and the rest of the town -- were missing something. He didn't have time to consider it though because, next thing he knew, Taylor was holding Rory's basket in the air. He recognized it from when she'd brought it into the diner a few days before. 

"Now this next one may not look like much," Taylor admitted. "But remember, people – good things come in small packages."

Jess smirked at that comment and glanced at Dean, who was looking at the basket with a sickeningly confident expression on his face.

"Let's start the bidding at three dollars," Taylor stated.

Immediately, Dean chimed in, upping the ante. "Five dollars," he said, looking proudly in Rory's direction.

"Now that's the kind of bidding we want to hear today," Taylor said happily. "Five dollars, do I hear ten dollars?"

"Ten dollars," Jess offered. He could feel Rory glance back at him as soon as he said it, but he kept his eyes trained on Dean. Irritated, Dean looked back at Jess.

"Okay, I have ten dollars. Do I have fifteen?"

Before Dean even had time to react to what was going on, Jess bid twenty dollars.

"Twenty dollars, do I hear twenty-five?" Taylor asked.

"Thirty," Dean said tersely, regaining his composure.

"Okay, see, you boys don't seem to understand the way this thing works," Taylor began.

Jess and Dean ignored him.

"Forty dollars," Jess called, increasingly amused by how agitated Dean was becoming.

"Fifty dollars," Dean immediately countered.

Taylor looked on in amazement. "Excuse me, have either of you noticed how tiny this thing is?"

"Seventy-five," Jess directed towards Taylor, even as he looked at Dean out of the corners of his eyes.

"Now we're not talking cents, gentlemen," Taylor explained. "We're talking dollars, remember."

Hesitating, Dean began to fidget. He definitely had not planned on having competition for Rory's basket, and he knew he couldn't afford to bid any higher. "Eighty," he said with fake conviction.

"Eighty?" Taylor repeated. "Eighty dollars?"

"Ninety," Jess bid confidently.

"Ninety dollars, is that correct?" Taylor asked. "Okay, we've got ninety going once, ninety dollars going twice…" 

Though visibly annoyed, Dean remained silent. Meanwhile, Jess smirked and shook his head in amusement.

Taylor paused, then striking his gavel, he declared, "Sold to the nice young hoodlum in the back for ninety dollars."

Pulling the money from his pocket, Jess stepped forward to retrieve Rory's basket. As he returned to his spot amidst the crowd, Dean's angry gaze followed his every step. 

***

Holding the basket at his side, Jess watched as Rory approached Dean and followed him away from the crowd to talk. He couldn't hear what was being said, but it was obvious from Dean's angry gestures that the conversation was not going particularly well. More importantly, Rory seemed unable to calm her boyfriend down. Jess knew he should probably just leave and let them deal with things, but he didn't trust Dean, and he certainly wasn't about to give up. So instead he walked over to them.

"I gotta tell you," Jess said jovially to the couple, "of all the nutty barn-raising shindigs this town can cook up, this one wasn't half bad."

"Glad you enjoyed it," Dean sarcastically replied.

"Yes, I did," Jess said, dismissing Dean and directing his attention to Rory. "So shall we?"

"Shall we what?" Dean answered.

"Shall we go?" Jess retorted.

"Go where?"

"Go eat."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"The person who buys the basket wins the company of the person who makes the basket for lunch," Jess explained. "Basket," he continued, shaking the basket in the air. "Basket maker," he said, pointing at Rory. "Guy who didn't bring enough money," he finished, pointing at Dean.

"You think this is funny," Dean angrily stated.

"Well," Jess quipped. "It's no Lenny Bruce routine, but it has its moments."

"Bye, Jess," Dean dismissed.

"Where you going?" Jess asked innocently.

"You're the one who's going."

"Oh, as soon as Rory is ready," Jess said, glancing at Rory, who was visibly uncomfortable with the exchange taking place in front of her.

"She's not going with you."

"Really?" Jess turned his full attention to Rory. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it's true," Dean answered.

Jess looked at Dean. "Excuse me, Edgar Bergen; I think I'd like Charlie McCarthy to answer now."

"Shut up," Dean spat weakly.

"Dean," Rory began cautiously.

"What?"

"Well…" Rory hedged.

"Oh, come on!" Dean complained.

"It's tradition," Rory explained, the argument sounding just as weak when vocalized as it had in her head.

"I don't believe this."

"It is. It's tradition. You don't understand because you haven't lived here long, but there are some traditions that just need to be upheld," Rory rambled, grasping at straws. "Like around Christmas, when everyone in Stars Hollow puts an ornament on the town Christmas tree, and Sookie makes hot cider and gingerbread cookies for everyone. Or at Easter when Taylor dresses up like a giant Easter bunny and hands out candy to everyone. Oh," she said excitedly, trying to sell her point. "Or on National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day when we all…"

"Rory," Dean interrupted, growing impatient. "This is different; nobody's gonna care if you don't go through with this."

"I will," Rory spontaneously professed, surprising even herself. Her mind was struggling to disentangle the myriad of unexpected, veiled reasons behind her adamancy, but she pushed them away and focused on the task at hand. "I happen to take Stars Hollow traditions very seriously," she declared.

"I don't want you to go."

"Don't make this into a big thing, Dean."

"Then don't go," Dean pleaded.

"Oh geez, man," Jess finally interrupted. "She's not shipping off to 'Nam."

"You _so _need to shut up now, " Dean threatened.

"It's just a picnic; it's lunch," Rory said, trying to be logical. "We'll sit, we'll eat, it's over."

"No."

"What do you think is gonna happen?" Rory asked.

Jess nodded. "Yeah, I think I'd like to hear this one also,"

"I don't want you to go," Dean said again, ignoring the question.

"Dean!" Rory said, exasperated.

"Fine, forget it, go!" he said angrily before turning and walking away.

Rory followed her boyfriend, and this time, Jess remained behind. He was close enough to hear their conversation, however.

"Please don't walk away like that," Rory said, walking around Dean until they were face to face.

"Sorry," Dean sarcastically apologized. "I'd do a silly walk, but I'm not feeling very John Cleese right now."

"Dean, you know this isn't my fault. I didn't ask him to bid on the basket; I didn't tell him to do it. I would never do anything to hurt you," she promised.

"Yeah?" Dean asked skeptically. "Well, you're doing it right now." 

When he walked away this time, Rory didn't follow. She just stared after him as he left. She kept looking at the space where he'd been, even after he was no longer in sight.

After a few moments, Jess approached her. "You know, there's nothing there."

"Yes, I know," Rory sadly replied.

"You going after him?"

"Not right now."

"Ok," Jess said simply, dropping the subject. "Shall we?" 

Rory glanced at him, and he held up the basket.

"Fine," Rory sighed. "Come on."

***

"Where do you wanna eat?" Jess asked after they'd walked quite a distance from the town square in silence.

Rory shrugged her shoulders and said sharply, "Don't care."

"Okay," Jess calmly answered before turning direction and heading towards the bridge.

"Where are you going?"

"Thought you didn't care," Jess pointed out, walking backwards across the bridge as he talked to her.

"I'm not jumping in the lake."

"No underwater dining," Jess remarked. "Got it." Choosing a spot towards the middle of the bridge, he stopped and looked at her.

"Now what?" Rory asked.

"Now we sit," Jess replied as he set the picnic basket on the bridge and sat down.

"Here?" 

"Yup," Jess said simply.

"On the bridge?" Rory continued. "That's where we're gonna eat?"

"Yup."

"Okay," Rory conceded, taking a seat beside him, her posture instinctively mimicking his.

Jess looked out over the water. "I like this place," he said casually.

"Wow," Rory caustically exclaimed. "A place in Stars Hollow you actually like. I'm stunned."

He smiled. "It's got some good memories. You see right over there?" he asked, pointing to another spot on the bridge.

"Yup."

"That's where Luke pushed me in."

"Huh," Rory remarked, amused.

"Yeah."

"It's nice."

"It is," Jess agreed.

"So why'd you do it?" Rory asked abruptly and without warning.

"Do what?"

"Outbid Dean like that."

Jess gazed out over the water and thought about her question for a moment. He briefly considered telling her the truth… that he'd done it because it was a rare chance to spend time with her without breaking any precious and sacred Stars Hollow rules. That, ever since that night before the Snowperson Contest, he'd been waiting for an opportunity just like this one. That Dean wasn't good enough for her and never would be. That maybe he wasn't good enough for her either. That ever since he'd left New York, spending time with her was the only thing that made even the smallest bit of sense. 

When it came down to it though, honesty had never really been his forte.

"I think the real question," he said at last, challenging her eyes with his. "Is why'd _you_ do it?" 

"What are you talking about?" Rory asked, confused. "_You_ outbid Dean. I had nothing to do with it."

"You're here, aren't you?" Jess pointed out. "You didn't have to come."

Angry and frustrated, Rory turned her eyes away and looked out over the water. "That isn't fair. It's a tradition."

"So you've said."

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You're right," Jess acknowledged. "You don't."

His casual agreement only served to make her more defensive. "If Kirk had outbid Dean on the basket, I would be eating lunch with him. If Bootsie had done it, I'd be eating lunch with him. It's a tradition, and Dean should've understood that," she said fiercely. "But just because it was you, he thinks…" she trailed off.

"What?" Jess asked, curious to know what she was going to say.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Are you sorry you came?"

"Are you sorry you paid $90 for a basket?" she volleyed back.

"Are you kidding? Did you see the look on Dean's face? I got my money's worth."

"So you did this to bug Dean," Rory accused, finding herself strangely disappointed by the idea.

"You have to admit, it was funny."

"It wasn't funny," Rory said seriously. "I don't want to be in a fight with Dean."

"Well, I'm sorry about that," Jess apologized.

Rory shrugged her shoulders.

"You wanna push me in the lake?" Jess offered. "It's cathartic, I hear."

The idea didn't seem like such a bad one, and the image of Jess flailing through the air and into the water caused Rory to, at last, crack a smile. "Maybe in a little."

"Just warn me first."

"Yeah, right," Rory scoffed. "How would that be fun?"

"You have serious Damien issues, you know that?"

"You'd better watch your back, Mr. Mariano," she teased, smiling impishly. "You've created a monster."

"Lorelai raised you, and _I'm_ the one responsible for your moral downfall?"

"My mother didn't initiate me into a life of crime."

"Oh please, she probably had you conning people out of coffee before you could crawl."

"Conning is a skill. Destruction of property is a crime," Rory distinguished.

"Please tell me that isn't your best defense."

"Okay, so it takes a while to develop a criminal mind, but I'm workin' on it."

Jess smirked. "Well, if you need any pointers, I'd be happy to help."

"I'll let you know," Rory whispered conspiratorially, leaning so closely to Jess that a windblown strand of her hair grazed his cheek. Jess tried to process the sensation, but, as quickly as she'd drawn near, she pulled away, completely innocent to the havoc she'd just wreaked. He watched as she swung her legs playfully back and forth over the water and, in disbelief, wondered if he'd imagined it all. 

"So," he said, drawing her attention. "Should we open this?"

"Go ahead," Rory consented.

Jess immediately lifted the lid off the basket and spun it once before setting it on the bridge. He peered in and sifted through its contents.

"Wow! Not one thing in here that I would remotely consider eating."

"Well, I didn't make it for you," Rory saucily reminded him. "I made it for Dean."

"Or for Kirk," Jess added, smirking at her before returning his attention to the basket. "Dean seriously would've eaten this?" he asked, holding up a container full of an unidentifiable, semi-food-like substance.

"Yes, he would have," Rory stated, masterfully suppressing a wicked smile.

Challenged, Jess stuck the plastic fork into the Tupperware, lifted it to his mouth, and took a big bite. His face immediately contorted into a look of revulsion. "Dean is an idiot," he said around the mouthful of food.

"Dean never would've fallen for that," Rory said, looking very smug.

"Ah, ha-ha," Jess fake-laughed. "I think I underestimated the extent of your depravity."

"You should never underestimate a Gilmore."

"My mistake," he admitted, closing the container and shoving it, along with the rest of the food, back into the basket. "Are you _sure_ you like Dean? You didn't even pack a cookie."

"Dean knew to eat ahead of time," Rory teased.

"Oh, sure," Jess complained. "I did pay $90 for this, you know."

"Not a very smart investment," Rory taunted, shaking her head sympathetically.

"Well, since you aren't offering any real food," Jess said. "How about some food for thought?"

"Hmm… I'm afraid that wasn't part of the deal."

"C'mon, I deserve _something_."

"True, but I already told you I'd push you in later," she said with a sugary smile.

"Don't you feel just a little guilty," he asked.

"Not even a little."

"Huh," he said, expertly infusing that one trivial word with both disappointment and disregard.

Rory peered at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. "Okay," she allowed. "I guess we can talk."

Jess turned his head to look at her, sensing a catch.

"But I'll ask the questions," she finished.

"If I wanted an interrogation, I could get one from Luke for free."

"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

"Fine," Jess reluctantly agreed. "But I reserve the right not to answer, _and_ you have to answer every question too."

Rory hesitated for a moment, then accepted the conditions with a simple "Okay."

"Okay," Jess repeated with a nod. He turned to sit cross-legged on the bridge, and Rory followed his lead and changed her position, so they now sat face-to-face. "Then, go ahead, O'Brien."

Rory shot him a puzzled look. Like many times before, she quickly scanned through their previous conversation in her head and tried to figure out the reference. Jess chuckled at the way her face scrunched up when she was deep in thought. He waited patiently for her to figure it out. 

After a moment, her face lit up in a smile. "1984!" she said triumphantly. She didn't have to wait for his confirmation; she knew she was right. So far, he'd never stumped her. 

"Okay, first question, Mr. Mariano," she said in an official tone, sitting up straight and authoritatively, as any expert interrogator would. "What's the first book you remember?"

He almost laughed; that wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. Usually, given the opportunity for open inquisition, people went straight to the personal questions. Relaxing, he suddenly felt safe in this game… that is, until he started contemplating his answer. 

Rory watched him, waiting expectantly for his response; so when his expression slightly changed from amusement to sadness, she noticed right away. Thirty seconds or so went by. She was just about to give him an out when he spoke.

"Winnie-the-Pooh," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers.

"Seriously?" she asked, surprised.

"You were expecting 'A Clockwork Orange'?" he said, smirking.

"No, I just never would've guessed 'Winnie-the-Pooh'."

"My mom used to read it to me," he replied honestly, the look in his eyes contradicting the nonchalant tone of voice he'd adopted. "It was her favorite book when she was little," Jess explained.

"What was your favorite part?" Rory asked, hoping for a little insight into the child that Jess had been and an explanation for the inconsistent behavior she was witnessing.

"I don't remember," Jess lied. "It was a long time ago."

"Did your mom read to you a lot?"

Jess shrugged. "I guess. After a while, she didn't have time."

"Why?" 

"My dad left," he replied simply and with little emotion.

Rory nodded, not sure what to say -- not sure if anything should be said.

"What about you?" Jess asked, redirecting the question to her. "What's the first book you remember?"

Rory smiled at the memory. "Caps for Sale."

"With the monkeys?"

"That's the one."

"I should've guessed," Jess said.

"My mom has always had a thing for monkeys, so when Mia bought me some books for Christmas one year, Mom immediately gravitated towards that one. We read it every night for weeks. Mom would read most of it, but I would always do the 'Tsz, tsz, tsz' part."

"I can almost picture you as a kid, doing that," Jess said, appraising her. "I bet you were just adorable," he teased, which caused Rory to break out in a light pink blush.

"Okay, I answered the question. It's your turn."

"Great," he mumbled under his breath, wondering why he'd ever agreed to this.

"How did you go from the little, happy Jess who read 'Winnie-the-Pooh' to the jaded individual who terrorizes Stars Hollow today?"

"I can't answer that," he stated.

"Why not?"

"It'd take too long, and, trust me, you really don't want to know."

"Maybe I do," Rory gently argued.

"You don't."

"So give me the short and easy version."

"Rory…" Jess warned, but upon seeing the hopeful and compassionate look in her eyes, he stopped. He had to give her something.

"Ok, I am how I am because our society, specifically our school system, conspires against teenagers."

"Interesting," Rory said, nodding. It wasn't exactly what she hoped for, but he had her intrigued. "Continue."

"You know how they always accuse us of being angry and depressed? The 'Who Cares' generation?"

Rory nodded.

"Well, _they_ do that to us. I have a whole theory."

"Go on."

"Okay, let me ask you a question," Jess said. "Think about the books you had to read for English class in junior high and high school. What do they all have in common?"

"They're well-written, innovative, thought-provoking novels that changed the course of literary history?"

"That's what they want you to think," Jess continued. "But really, they're all designed to depress the hell out of us."

"Are you serious?"

"Name something you had to read."

  
"Ok," Rory said, thinking. "Let's go back to O'Brien. 1984."

"A guy fights against a brainwashing government that denies any semblance of individualism, and, in the end, he loses. He becomes a mindless drone. He stands up for love and freedom of thought, and he ends up worshipping Big Brother just like everyone else. Name another."

"Romeo and Juliet," Rory said quickly.

"Boy falls in love with girl. Girl falls in love with boy. But they can't be together. They defy the odds, get married, and their dueling families tear them apart, eventually resulting in their untimely deaths. Pretty much every Shakespeare play they make you read is a tragedy, despite the fact that he wrote comedies too. Got another?"

"The Chocolate War," Rory offered.

"A boy refuses to sell chocolate bars for the annual school chocolate sale. He stands up to the system, and he ends up being beaten within an inch of his life. In the end, he tells another student that there's no point fighting the system because you'll never succeed."

"The Pearl," Rory says, without any prompting.

"Kino, a pearl diver, finds the Pearl of the World, a pearl so valuable that he can use it to have his son treated for a deadly scorpion bite, but, instead it brings him only pain and suffering. In the end, the pearl - his only means of providing for his family – causes more trouble than he could have imagined, resulting in the loss of his home and the death of his son. It destroys his life. And that's just a few," Jess pointed out. "Look at the rest: Lord of the Flies, Grapes of Wrath, The Scarlet Letter… they're all depressing."

"I guess you're right," Rory agreed, strangely impressed.

"I'm telling you; the things they force us to read in school are designed to destroy any optimism or faith in humanity that we might still naively possess. Maybe it's not that teenagers choose to be angry; maybe it's that we're forced to be because all of our reasons for happiness and hopes for the future are taken away before we even turn eighteen."

"You have to admit that all of the books convey a profound message though," Rory argued. 

"I'm not disagreeing with that."

"And maybe the books aren't intended to depress us but to inspire us to continue to try to change the world and embrace and respect the freedoms that the characters may have lacked but which we actually possess."

"Even if it results in our inevitable brainwashing and death."

"Even then," Rory agreed, smiling. "How long did it take you to come up with all of this?"

"About ten minutes before a class. I didn't get around to writing a paper, and I needed an excuse."

Rory laughed. "Did it work?"

"Not exactly."

"It was a nice try though," Rory commended. 

"So, Rory Gilmore," Jess said, relieved that he had successfully dodged a truthful answer to her original question. "Time for your question. Amidst all of this society-induced pessimism, how exactly have you managed to stay such an idealist?"

Considering the question, Rory looked across the small space at Jess and thought about the fact that, two years ago, they'd never even met. The idea that there was a time before Jess seemed ludicrous to her. 

Contemplative, she answered. "Because, sometimes, when you least expect it, something amazing can come along. If I didn't believe it could happen, I might not recognize it when it did. So when I have to choose between doubt and hope, I guess I'll always choose hope. Just in case."

"You've lived in this fairy tale town too long," Jess skeptically remarked.

"Maybe _you_ just haven't lived here long enough," Rory countered. 

***

****


	8. Like a Roach to a Flame

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 8: Like a Roach to a Flame

__

A/N: Here's Chapter 8 for your reading enjoyment, and it's even earlier than usual. Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews; I can't believe I passed the 100 mark. You all are truly awesome! Special thanks to AvidTVfan (again… believe me, she deserves it) for involuntarily becoming my content inspector and to columbiachica for being the best fic pimp a girl could ask for. Please review! Definitely enjoy! ~Becka

****

"Seriously?" Jess exclaimed, eyeing Rory. "You're actually telling me that you not only read The Fountainhead, but you liked it?"

Rory smiled. "That's what I said."

"How old were you?"

"Ten."

"Ten?" Jess repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, but I didn't understand a word of it, so I had to reread it when I was fifteen."

"I've yet to make it through it," Jess admitted.

"See, I knew I was missing something," Rory said triumphantly. "Only someone who hasn't read all of The Fountainhead could list it as his least favorite book."

"I've read enough," Jess scoffed. "Trust me, that book is in its rightful place."

"You should really try it again. It's a classic."

"Yeah, but Ayn Rand is a political nut."

"Yeah, but nobody could write a forty page monologue the way that she could."

"I take it back. Forget about the politics; she's just a plain old nut."

"And Ernest Hemingway is a cure for insomnia," Rory countered.

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

"It's true," Rory insisted. "Once, my mom and I competed to see which of us could drink more coffee in one day…"

"You do realize how wrong that is, right?" Jess interrupted.

Rory ignored his comment and continued. "By the end of the day, we'd both lost count, but we were pretty sure coffee was coursing through our veins instead of blood."

"For his sake, I _really_ hope Luke had nothing to do with this."

"He was Mom's unwitting accomplice," Rory said, smiling. "That was the day she perfected her ability to dart behind the counter, fill up her mug, and get back on her stool before he ever saw a thing. Luke thought he was losing his mind. He kept standing in front of the half-empty pot, just staring at it. Then, he'd turn to us with this puzzled look on his face. He'd sort of gesture at the pot and look at us for confirmation that he'd filled it, and Mom would act completely confused, like she didn't understand what he was getting at. He must've refilled that pot at least ten times."

"You're telling me he didn't figure it out?" Jess asked in disbelief.

"Nope, the poor guy," Rory said, shaking her head sympathetically. "He never knew what hit him."

"Good to know that clueless thing he does isn't just an act," Jess mused. "So how does this relate to Hemingway?"

"Well, as you can imagine, by that night, we'd consumed so much coffee there was no way we were ever going to get to sleep. We tried everything. And for the record," Rory observed, "Warm milk does _not_ live up to the hype. There's definitely a reason people prefer it cold. Anyway, eventually, I decided I might as well do homework if I was going to be up, so I picked up The Old Man and the Sea and started reading. Next thing I knew, it was morning."

"Right," Jess said skeptically. 

"Face it, Jess," Rory teased. "One of your favorite authors is the literary equivalent of a sleeping pill."

Jess rolled his eyes, doing his best to ignore the satisfied smile on Rory's face. When she raised her eyebrows in challenge, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Ok, how about this?" he offered. "I'll make you a deal. Tomorrow, I'll try to read Ayn Rand _again_, and you will…"

"Give the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance," Rory reluctantly finished. "Yes, I promise."

"You know," Jess said sincerely. "Ernest only has lovely things to say about you."

At his words, Rory's face grew serious. "Why are you only nice to me?" she asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You've been sitting here, answering every question I ask you with a minimal amount of sarcasm and being really nice, but an hour ago, you were totally screwing with Dean."

"You see," Jess said, choosing his words carefully. "It's the screwing with Dean that's an important step to getting here so I can be nice to you."

"So it _was_ a plan."

"What?"

"The whole bidding on my basket, it was a plan."

"Okay, I'm officially starving," Jess declared, blatantly avoiding the subject.

"And officially evasive."

"Come on, I'll get you a pizza."

"Answer my question."

"Do you like pepperoni?" 

"Not going to, are you?"

"We can just get it on half if you want," Jess offered.

"Okay, I give; let's go," Rory said, standing and beginning to walk in the direction of town.

"If you insist," Jess answered, making a move to rise. He was just about to follow when his eye caught a glimpse of something lying on the bridge where Rory had been sitting. Crouching, he picked up the fallen bracelet, twirled it around his finger, and put it in his pocket. Then, he stood and walked across the bridge to catch up with Rory.

***

"A ninety dollar picnic basket, and I'm buying you pizza," Jess complained good-naturedly as they walked through town towards Pete's Pizza Place. "Have you ever considered cooking classes?"

"Maybe I'm fighting against the age-old sexist notion that women should do all of the cooking."

"Or that pesky age-old notion that people should be able to take care of themselves."

"Hey," Rory protested. "I can take care of myself. I have all of the necessary phone numbers memorized, and I am on very good terms with all of the delivery people in this town."

"Well, in that case," Jess teased, smirking. 

"And you're Emeril Lagasse's long-lost son?" Rory asked sarcastically.

"I can hold my own."

"Guys are programmed at birth with the ability to make macaroni and cheese. That doesn't count."

"Think what you want," Jess dismissed. "I don't brag about my culinary skills." 

"You're serious," Rory observed, turning her eyes to study him but continuing to walk.

Jess glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then, realizing they'd arrived at the one busy street in town, he instinctively extended his hand in front of her to stop her from walking. As his arm brushed gently against her, Rory felt a sudden, disorienting wave of warmth rush over her. Confused, she tried to shake the feeling off, but, like Jess's arm, it remained until the oncoming car had passed. Once it was safe to cross, he withdrew his hand and shoved it into his pocket. Suddenly silent, they proceeded across the street. 

They soon reached Pete's, and Jess stepped forward to pull open the door. In control of herself again, Rory walked past him into the restaurant. As Jess made his way through the door behind her, Rory remembered their earlier conversation and, curious, turned to look at him.

"You can _really_ cook?" she asked again, skeptical.

"I can _really _cook," he affirmed, smirking.

"Huh," Rory responded, slowly nodding acceptance.

Jess's smirk grew wider at her cute expression. "So," he said, "Maybe we should order?"

"Yes, we should," Rory agreed, filing away her newly acquired Jess information for later reflection.

***

After agreeing on a fully loaded, medium pizza, Jess walked over to the counter to place the order, and Rory wandered off to choose a table. Picking a booth away from the windows and, therefore, the prying eyes of Stars Hollow gossips, Rory sat down and absentmindedly scanned the restaurant for familiar faces. A few tables away, she saw a group of girls – former classmates from Stars Hollow High. They were talking animatedly and giggling. She was only watching them for a second when one of the girls, a redhead who she faintly remembered from a junior high math class, nudged the blonde sitting beside her. Rory had had several classes with the blonde, Lacey, before she transferred to Chilton. Feeling the elbow poking into her ribs, Lacey cut off her story and, visibly annoyed, glanced at her friend. Rory watched as the redhead raised her eyebrows and started jerking her head, a universal indication that Lacey should look at something. Confused, Lacey glanced in the suggested direction, and, immediately, a wide smile spread across her face. Rory shifted her eyes to see what was so exciting and saw Jess walking across the restaurant towards her with the table number and two glasses of Coke in his hands. As he passed by the table of girls, she saw Lacey's eyes scan him up and down, and immediately, the other girls burst into another fit of giggles. Lacey's face turned bright red, and she smacked one of her laughing friends on the arm. That only made them laugh harder.

Rory switched her gaze from the girls to Jess and then back again. Even though she could tell he was completely oblivious to his fan club, Rory felt a stab of pain shoot through her chest, and butterflies took up sudden flight in her stomach. Her whole body was warring between feeling anger and sheer panic.

"Here," Jess said, setting one of the glasses in front of her and sitting down on the opposite side of the booth. "You didn't tell me what you wanted, so I got the one with the most caffeine."

"Thanks," Rory croaked. She pulled the glass in front of her and started sipping through the straw, trying to ignore whatever it was that had just happened to her. 

"You okay?" Jess asked.

"Yeah," Rory said, forcing herself to relax. "I'm just hungry." On cue, her stomach growled loudly in agreement.

"They said it'll be fifteen minutes," Jess answered, glancing around at the pizza parlor's décor. "This place isn't very Stars Hollow."

"What do you mean?" Rory asked, looking around as well.

"It reminds me of a place in New York."

"There's a pizza place in New York that has a display case for Smurf memorabilia?" 

"You're kidding."

"Nope," Rory replied, pointing at one corner of the restaurant.

"Okay, I didn't see that," Jess admitted, shaking his head.

Rory smiled and took another sip of her drink. "Did you eat there a lot?" she asked.

"Where?"

"The pizza place in New York."

"I spent some time there, yeah."

"It must be nice," Rory said.

"What?"

"Having a place here that reminds you of New York."

Jess shrugged. "I guess." Looking for a distraction, he reached out and picked up the table number.

"That's my favorite number," Rory said, looking up at him as she took another sip of her drink. 

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Nine is an excellent number."

"You should steal it," he said casually, rotating the number with his fingers.

"What?" Rory asked, surprised.

"Don't tell me you've never stolen one of these before." Just looking at her, he knew her answer. "You and Lane never stole one?"

"We never even thought about it," Rory admitted.

"Everyone does it."

"You stole a table number?"

"Quite a few, actually."

"Why?"

Jess shrugged. "The first time, it was a dare; the rest, it was just something to do."

"A dare? You don't seem like you'd care about that."

"I was young. Younger than the rest of my friends. I had to prove myself."

"By stealing a piece of plastic? How young _were_ you?"

"Eight," Jess said, as he set the number back on the table. "And I got caught."

Amused, Rory smiled. "You did?"

"It fell out from under my shirt. My friends all bolted when they saw the owner coming."

"Nice friends," she remarked.

"It wasn't too bad. I had to wash dishes for the rest of the day."

"And so began your food service career," Rory teased.

"Guess I found my calling," Jess joked back, meeting Rory's eyes.

She held his gaze, studying him, wanting to figure him out, but, too soon, he looked away. "You should steal it," he repeated, looking down into his glass as he twirled the straw. A moment later, their pizza arrived.

***

Jess smirked as he watched Rory polish off her third, large piece of pizza.

"What?" she asked, noticing his look as she wiped her hands on a napkin.

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Jess, what's so funny?"

Leaning forward, he adopted a serious face and whispered conspiratorially, "It's just you're kinda eating me under the table here."

"Oh," Rory answered, her face growing hot.

"I mean, a man's gotta have his self-respect," Jess continued. Noticing the red rising in her cheeks, he ducked his head down a little in an effort to meet her eyes. "Rory, I'm kidding." She looked up at him uncertainly. "I swear," he assured her. "It drives me crazy when girls refuse to eat anything." 

Rory smiled. "Well, then, in fairness to your fragile ego, I should warn you that I'm not even close to beating my personal record." To prove her point, she grabbed another piece of pizza and took a big bite.

Stubbornly taking her challenge, Jess picked up his own piece. Two bites later, he conceded victory, offering to refill her Coke as a reward.

***

Completely full, Rory pushed her plate to the center of the booth table and waited for Jess to return with her drink. Looking around, she noticed that Lacey and her friends were still sitting at their table, although the food had subdued their hyperactivity a little. She fought the urge to childishly glare at Lacey and instead distracted herself by tearing small pieces off from her napkin.

"Some poor guy is gonna have to clean that up, you know," Jess said as he set her newly replenished drink in front of her. 

Smiling at him, Rory gathered the paper remnants together and transferred them to her empty plate. "Better?"

"Much," he replied.

"Diner life is changing you," Rory quipped.

"Don't remind me," Jess moaned. "So when do you have to be home?"

"No particular time. Why?"

"Well, thanks to you, I have to go buy a copy of The Fountainhead."

"I could loan you my copy," Rory offered.

"Thanks, but I think the only way I'll actually read it is if I buy it myself. Investing money in it is a good incentive to at least put forth _some_ effort."

Rory smiled. "You know, it's not totally impossible that you might actually li–"

"Hi Jess," a female voice interrupted, cutting Rory off and drawing their attention. "Hi Rory."

Rory glanced at Jess and could immediately tell that, at most, he faintly recognized the blonde girl.

"Hi Lacey," Rory answered, looking back at their unexpected guest.

"I saw you sitting over here, and I thought I'd come say 'Hi'. It's sad that we never see you anymore."

"Yeah, it's weird," Rory agreed. "I miss everyone."

"So, how's your new school?" Lacey asked.

"It's good," Rory said, noticing that Lacey kept slyly glancing at Jess.

"That's good," Lacey replied. Then she pointedly looked at Jess and then again at Rory. "So I know it's none of my business, Rory," she started hesitantly, "but, um, it's just, well, I thought you were dating Dean Forrester."

"I am," Rory said, surprised.

"Oh," Lacey said, turning her eyes again to Jess. "Okay. So you two didn't break up or anything?"

"No, we didn't," Rory answered sharply.

"Right, okay. Some of us were just wondering 'cuz, you know…"

"Well, you can stop wondering because Dean and I are still together," Rory repeated abruptly.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply anything or anything like that," Lacey weakly assured her, smiling slightly. "Um, so anyway, I'm glad your new school is going okay and everything. Maybe I'll see you around. See you in class, Jess," she added, flashing him a bright smile before turning and walking back to the table full of her very curious friends.

"What was that all about?" 

"I don't know," Rory lied, irritated with Lacey's insinuations. "Should we go?" she asked, even as she answered her own question by standing up.

"Where?" Jess asked as he reached under the table to retrieve the basket Rory had stowed away earlier.

"To the bookstore. I think I hear Ayn Rand calling your name."

***

As they entered the bookstore, Rory breathed a sigh of contentment. Ever since she was little, she'd loved this bookstore – the way its warmth wrapped around her like a security blanket; the musty smell of old books mixed with the newness of just-released bestsellers; the subdued, cozy lighting; the endless world of possibilities contained within each cover. Like all of Stars Hollow, it was a whole world of wonder wrapped in a small package. The space was unassuming compared to a chain bookstore, but it was lined to full capacity with shelves and shelves of books. Hardcovers, paperbacks, first editions, tenth editions… it was almost a shame to hide the collection away in such a small town. Looking around, Rory completely forgot about her encounter with Lacey.

Without a word, as if by silent consent, Rory and Jess wandered off in opposite directions – Jess, to track down The Fountainhead and Rory, wherever her legs carried her.

An indeterminate time later, Rory stood in an aisle with three books in her hands, flipping through the pages of the one on top, when she felt Jess approach. He was trying to be stealthy, but the familiar scent of his cologne gave him away. She smiled as he moved to stand behind her, gazing over her shoulder at the book. Amused, she closed the book and held it up for him to see.

"The Moonstone, huh?" Jess said, not particularly surprised to discover that she'd known he was there.

"Yup, have you read it?" Rory asked, reopening the book and flipping through its pages again.

"It's on my list."

"Yeah, mine too. I alphabetized it a few years ago, and I think I finally made it to C. So, Wilkie Collins, it is."

"You'll have to tell me what you think of it. What else do you have?"

Rory closed The Moonstone and moved it aside to reveal the second book.

"Walden?" Jess asked.

"It's for extra credit," Rory explained.

"My sympathies. And the third?"

Shifting Walden to her other hand, Rory showed him the last book on the stack.

"The Children's Hour," Jess read off the cover. "Nice uplifting story for a rainy day," he quipped sarcastically.

"It's for my mom," Rory explained.

"Feeling the sudden need to take her happy-go-lucky attitude down a few notches?"

"No, we watched 'Julia' a few nights ago, and Mom mentioned she wanted to read it."

"Ah," Jess acknowledged.

"So what did you find?" Rory asked, turning to lean against the bookshelf, so she could look at him.

"As promised…" he began, holding up a book. "The dreaded Fountainhead and," he continued, "a book I thought you might like." He held a hardcover book out to her, and, curious, she took it from his hand.

"Don Marquis," she read aloud before flipping to the back cover. "I've never heard of him."

"You aren't alone, but, trust me, he's brilliant."

"Who is he?" she asked, looking up.

"He was a New York newspaper columnist back in the early 1900s. He wrote for the Evening Sun and the New York Tribune. His columns were funny and interesting, with a really unique cast of characters. His stuff was basically a social commentary on life, but it read like a cartoon, which made it accessible to all sorts of different people. It's too bad more people these days haven't heard of him."

"Was he really that big at the time?" Rory asked, wondering how she hadn't heard of him before.

"Oh yeah, he was an icon. Writers back then were crazy about him. People like Robert Benchley, James Thurber, and Dorothy Parker list him as one of their idols."

"I love Dorothy Parker," Rory enthused, intrigued. 

"You should take a look at it. I checked around the store, but they only have this "Best of…" edition. Then again, it'll give you a good idea of what he was about. He was pretty well known for his column involving a character he called "The Old Soak." It's basically about the pseudo-philosophical musings of a guy who liked to drink but was trapped in the time of Prohibition. The concept was transformed into a play and a movie and everything. But, if you ask me, his best work is his stuff with Archy and Mehitabel."

"Archy and Mehitabel?" Rory repeated.

"Yeah, it's great. According to the legend created by Marquis, of course, he came to work one day to find a cockroach, Archy, flinging himself at his typewriter in a desperate effort to meet his need for self-expression. Archy would methodically throw himself at each key until he said what he wanted to say – mostly reflections on life from his perspective. When you read it, you'll notice that there's no capitalization because it was impossible for Archy to operate the shift key and a letter key at the same time."

Rory smiled, growing more and more interested. "And Mehitabel?"

"Mehitabel was a cat Archy knew. She believed she was the reincarnated spirit of Cleopatra."

"Sounds strange."

"You'll like it, trust me," Jess assured her.

"This from someone who counts Hemingway among his favorites," Rory said skeptically.

"Okay," Jess bartered. "If you don't like it, I will voluntarily read Atlas Shrugged."

"Can it really be considered voluntary if you're doing it because you lost a bet?" Rory teased.

"It's my best offer."

Rory smiled. "Okay, I'll read it," she said, knowing full well that she had been planning on reading it all along.

"Were you gonna look around some more?" Jess asked.

"No, I think I better stop before I see anything else I want, but if you want to keep looking, go ahead. I can sit and read somewhere. I don't mind."

"I'll come find you in a little bit then."

"Okay," Rory agreed, and again, they wandered off in separate directions. 

***

Rory immediately found one of the few chairs they were able to cram into the small, confined space of the bookstore and sat down to read. She set her other books on the floor beside the chair and, intrigued, picked up "The Best of Don Marquis." Since each story was independent of all of the others, she opened up to a random page and began to read. 

Several stories later, Rory smiled amusedly and glanced up to scan the immediate area for Jess. Not seeing him, she closed her eyes and flipped through the pages with her finger before stopping on a whim and opening her eyes to read the one she had landed on, 'the lesson of the moth':

"i was talking to a moth

the other evening

he was trying to break into 

an electric light bulb

and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows 

pull this stunt i asked him

because it is the conventional 

thing for moths or why

if that had been an uncovered 

candle instead of an electric

light bulb you would 

now be a small unsightly cinder

have you no sense

plenty of it he answered

but at times we get tired

of using it

we get bored with the routine

and crave beauty

and excitement

fire is beautiful

and we know that if we get 

too close it will kill us

but what does that matter

it is better to be happy

for a moment 

and be burned up with the beauty

than to live a long time 

and be bored all the while…"

Over and over, Rory read and reread the story, knowing right away that, in a book brimming with brilliance, it was going to be her favorite.

***

"So, do you like it?" Jess asked, startling Rory out of her book-induced trance.

She smiled up at him. "Looks like 'Atlas Shrugged' will have to wait," she admitted. "It's great."

"As predicted," Jess said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You're just lucky I'm honest," Rory pointed out, closing the book and setting it on top of her other three selections.

"Here, I'll get it for you," Jess offered, extending his hand.

"You don't have to do that," Rory disagreed. Between the ninety dollars for the basket and the pizza, she couldn't rightfully accept anything else.

"C'mon, hand it over."

"Really, Jess; it's fine."

"Rory," Jess repeated. "I'm buying you the book."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I a—," Jess began before cutting himself off. "Okay, we can either stand here all day and argue about it like five year olds _or_ you can just hand it over and let me pay for it."

Rory studied him and knew immediately that there was no way he was going to let her buy the book. Sighing, she bent down and picked it up. "Fine," she muttered as she placed it in his outstretched hand.

"Now was that so hard?" he asked.

She glared at him and retrieved the rest of her books. Smirking, he started to walk towards the register.

Finally resolving a debate that had been waging in her head since the picnic on the bridge, Rory stopped and called after him. When he turned to look, she said as casually as possible, "I just remembered something I wanted to look at. I'll meet you in front." He nodded and continued towards the registers.

As soon as he was out of sight, Rory darted to a different section of the bookstore and quickly scanned the shelves. Finding what she was looking for, she snatched it up and hurried to the front of the store, praying that they had both registers open. When she got to the front, she saw that Jess was still busy buying his books, and, thankfully, the other register was staffed. Darting forward, she placed four books on the counter. As she'd hoped, they were rung up and bagged before Jess ever saw a thing.

***

"I can't believe it's so late," Rory said, looking up at the darkened sky as she and Jess strolled across town towards her house. "Today was a good day." 

"So I didn't _completely_ ruin it by outbidding Dean on your basket?"

"Not _completely_," Rory teased. "Although I could have done without the whole "making Dean mad" part."

"You gotta admit, he makes it easy."

"You call spending ninety dollars just to make Dean mad easy?"

"I call it money well spent," Jess answered, glancing at Rory.

Something about his tone made Rory look over at him and smile. They walked the rest of the way to her house in silence.

***

"Well, here we are," Rory said reluctantly, pausing to turn to Jess.

Nodding, he reached into his paper bag and pulled out his books. He left behind the Marquis book and handed the bag to her.

"Thanks," she said quietly, taking the bag.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," he said.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

Turning, Jess began walking across the front lawn, in the direction of Luke's.

Rory's eyes trailed his movements for a moment, then, suddenly remembering something, she quickly shifted her three books into the bag Jess had handed her. Then, she slipped something out of her coat pocket and dropped it into the other bag, next to her not-so-impromptu final purchase. Looking up, she saw Jess turning to head down the sidewalk and, taking a deep breath, she softly called out his name.

He paused, and Rory jogged over to him.

"I almost forgot; I got you something," she said hesitantly, holding the bag out to him. His brow furrowed in confusion, he made a motion to look in the bag, but Rory's voice stopped him. "Don't look until you get home."

Shifting his gaze upward, he scanned her face. "Okay," he said simply.

A look of relief spread across Rory's face, and she smiled. "Good-night, Jess." 

Puzzled, Jess watched her until she disappeared into the house, then, picnic basket and paper bag in hand, he headed towards Luke's.

***

"Hey, where have you been all day?" Luke asked as soon as Jess entered the diner.

"Bookstore," Jess tersely replied, holding up the paper bag as proof as he walked past the counter.

"Why do you have a picnic basket?"

"Uncle Luke, why do _you_ have a picnic basket?" Jess threw back, eyeing the basket Luke had placed safely behind the counter.

Luke glanced at the basket and back at Jess but said nothing.

"That's what I thought," Jess said, smirking as he headed upstairs.

***

Kicking off his shoes and dropping his coat on the floor, Jess sat on his bed and peered into the paper bag Rory had given him. Unable to make out the darkened contents, he impatiently reached his hand in and pulled out a slim, hard-covered book. As the title was made visible to him, he felt a familiar pang take residence in his chest. Pushing the bag out of the way, he thumbed through the book; a flood of memories best forgotten washed over him, and he sighed. Suddenly tired and unsure of how he felt about Rory's gesture, he set the book on a nearby table and reclined back on the bed, his back smashing down on the discarded paper bag in the process. Through the thick, brown paper, he felt something sharp stab into his side. Curious, he lifted his body just enough to reach underneath and pull the bag onto his lap. Stuffing his hand back into the bag, his fingers wrapped around a piece of triangular plastic. He immediately smiled and tugged the object all of the way out of the bag. The number nine looked back at him. Impressed and amused, he set the table number on top of the book and lay back down, closing his eyes. After a moment, however, he reopened them and soon found himself staring at the two items. Hesitantly, he sat up and moved the number to the side. Then, he picked up the copy of "Winnie-the-Pooh," leaned back, and began to read.


	9. Tough Love

****

Defending Bjork

Chapter 9: Tough Love

__

A/N: Well, here's Chapter 9. This chapter will probably seem a little different, as I've begun to stray a bit from the plot developed by ASP and into my vision of how things should've gone. As I do so, I feel the need to disclaim yet again. I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or the borrowed dialogue I use at the beginning of this chapter and throughout the story. ASP and her writers are the geniuses here; I'm just a girl who likes to write. Hopefully, as I journey away from what ASP started, I'll continue to do justice to the show and its brilliance. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review, if you have a minute or two. I was completely floored and honored by the overwhelming response I received after the last update! You're all incredible! A special shout-out to **ILoveJess** because her reviews made me laugh out loud and smile for days and to **raquel **for her invaluable help with the music portion of this chapter. Given that I tend to be a fan of the "Oh geez!" variety of music, I couldn't have done it without her. I hope it seems like I knew what I was talking about. Thanks everyone! Enjoy! ~Becka

With one last furtive glance at Jess, Rory closed the door and turned to enter the living room. "Mom?" she called out, the bookstore bag still clutched tightly in her hand. 

"Oh, hey," Lorelai replied, turning to peer over the back of the couch. "Where've you been? I thought Taylor auctioned you off to the highest bidder."

"No, I just went to get some pizza, and then I wandered around the bookstore for a little while," Rory explained while reaching into the bag to retrieve her mother's gift. "Here."

"What's this?" Lorelai asked, taking the book.

"You said you wanted to read 'The Children's Hour'," Rory reminded her.

"I did?" 

"The other night when we were watching 'Julia', and Jane Fonda was playing Lillian Hellman."

"Oh yeah, and I made the Hellmann's mayonnaise joke," Lorelai said proudly.

"Which no one ever needs to hear again."

"Right, right. Well, thanks."

"You're welcome," Rory replied before grabbing the bag and heading towards her room.

"So who were you with?" Lorelai called after her.

"What?" Rory asked, turning to look at her mother.

"Pizza, book buying – did you have company?"

"Oh… yeah," Rory said hesitantly.

"Who?" Lorelai pressed.

"Um, Jess."

"Jess?" 

"Yeah." 

"Right."

"So, I'll be in my room," Rory said, gesturing in its direction before turning to go.

"Okay, good," Lorelai absently agreed. She waited a moment, then, deciding the conversation wasn't over, she placed her new book on the table and followed Rory into the room. "So how was the picnic?" she asked from the doorway, watching as Rory grabbed a book from the bag and set it on her shelf.

"Fine," Rory replied, glancing warily at her mother.

"Good. Did you get the Dean issue resolved?"

"Not yet. I didn't have a chance."

"Oh… you don't think maybe you could have found some time?" Lorelai asked.

"I was gone all day," Rory pointed out.

"Right… with Jess."

"Yes, with Jess; I think we established that already."

"So how did that go?"

"Fine," Rory repeated.

"Well, obviously," Lorelai said awkwardly. "The pizza… and the books. So good, that's… I'm glad."

Choosing to ignore her mother's unconvincing tone, Rory grabbed another book from the bag and placed it on the shelf. 

Frowning slightly, Lorelai sat on the edge of Rory's bed and silently watched her daughter put the rest of her new books away. It wasn't until Rory turned to shelve the last book that she finally spoke, trying to keep her tone as gentle and even as possible, "So, you _are_ going to resolve things with Dean at some point, right?'

Surprised, Rory turned to face her. "Of course, I am."

"Okay. Good. Just checking."

"I'm just giving him time to cool off," Rory elaborated defensively.

"Makes sense," Lorelai nodded. 

"He's my boyfriend. Of course, I'm going to work things out with him."

"Got it."

"What's going on?" Rory asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're acting weird."

"Babe, you've lived with me for seventeen years, my middle name is Weird," Lorelai joked.

"This isn't normal weird."

"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"Speaking in two word sentences, changing the subject… you only do this when you're upset about something."

"I'm not upset," Lorelai disagreed.

"Then, what are you?"

"Stunningly gorgeous?" she offered.

"Mom, be serious."

Lorelai studied her daughter's face for a moment then said honestly, "It's nothing; I guess I'm just a little worried."

"About what?" 

"This," Lorelai answered, gesturing between her daughter and herself. "You… keeping things from me. I knew that day would probably come… eventually, but I always hoped you and I would avoid it. I always want you to be able to tell me what's going on with you. No matter what."

"I haven't been keeping things from you."

"Maybe you didn't intend to, but –"

"Where is this coming from?" Rory interrupted. "Is this about Jess? Because you were there; it was just an auction."

"_And_ pizza _and_ the bookstore," Lorelai finished.

"So, this _is_ about Jess," Rory said, upset.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt."

"You don't know that. Guys like that…"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know, Rory – angry at the world – using the past as an excuse to act like a jerk – lashing out at anyone who happens to be within yelling distance. Any of this sound familiar?"

"Jess isn't like that," Rory disagreed.

"Well, I have to say that the few conversations I've had with him suggest he's exactly like that," Lorelai said, growing frustrated. "And let's not forget the vandalism and the stealing and the cutting school and the fighting. I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be hanging out with him, especially when it's causing problems between you and Dean."

"So you're saying I can't date Dean_ and_ be friends with Jess?"

"No, I didn't say that, but things just aren't always that simple. In a perfect world, you should be able to do whatever you want, but in this imperfect world, seeing you spending time with Jess upsets Dean. He's trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but he needs to know you want to fix things too."

"How do you know what Dean needs to know? Did he say something to you?"

"Yeah, he and I talked a little after the auction. He was really upset."

"So he went running to my mother?" Rory asked angrily.

"Well, he needed someone to talk to."

"Well, he could've talked to me."

"No, he couldn't, 'cause you were off with Jess," Lorelai reminded her.

"I wasn't _off_ with Jess. Jess outbid him."

"Yeah, you mentioned that."

"Well, he did," Rory said in frustration. "Why is that so difficult for everyone to understand?"

"We're just concerned about you. We don't want you to invest time in someone that might not be worth the effort."

"Wow!" Rory exclaimed disbelievingly. "I thought you, of all people, would be willing to give someone a second chance."

"Rory, this isn't about me giving Jess a second chance or a third or a fourth. This is about me protecting you and making sure that you don't get hurt. Guys like Jess are dangerous. They get into trouble, and I don't want you hanging out with him and getting into trouble too."

"I won't get into trouble just because I spend time with Jess."

"I think the ringer snowman would beg to differ, Professor Hinkle," Lorelai said hastily.

Surprised, Rory paused for a moment, her face flushing red. Then, she spoke cautiously, "How long have you known about that?"

"For a while," Lorelai sighed. 

"So… what? You were just holding onto it as your trump card, waiting for the perfect moment to play it and prove me wrong?"

"Of course not; it just sort of slipped out," Lorelai said truthfully.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway because it isn't Jess's fault. He didn't _get_ me into trouble. It was my decision."

"So you just woke up one morning and decided, 'Hey, today I feel like destroying a snowman'?" Lorelai asked skeptically.

"I can't believe I'm even still talking about this. Apparently, you and everyone else in Stars Hollow think I'm mindless and incapable of deciding anything for myself, so I don't know why I should even bother saying what I think… if I can think at all, that is," Rory said, grabbing her coat from the bed.

"That's ridiculous," Lorelai scoffed.

"No, this whole conversation is ridiculous. And, as much as I'd like to stay and listen to you tell me what to think and who to spend time with, it seems Jess already filled my brainwashing quotient for the day."

"Rory…"

"No, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm going for a walk," she said coldly before heading out the door.

***

"It's your turn," Luke mumbled gruffly at Jess as he walked around the counter.

Jess sighed and shifted his eyes from his book to his uncle. "My turn to what?"

"Deal with _that_," Luke said, directing his gaze towards a window table. 

Jess looked in the indicated direction. "No way," he stated firmly before returning his attention to his novel.

"Jess…" Luke warned.

Despite Luke's tone, Jess ignored him and continued to read.

"One of us has to take their order."

"Have fun," Jess offered tonelessly, his eyes still not straying from the page.

"I took it yesterday," Luke reminded him.

"Yes, you did," Jess agreed, turning the page.

"And the day before that."

"You're _very _perceptive, Uncle Luke."

"Please don't make me do it again," Luke said, a slight tone of desperation peeking through his tough façade.

Smirking, Jess at last looked up from his book. He glanced at Luke, considering his plight, then he turned his attention to the pair by the window. It only took him a second to make up his mind. "I am _not_ going over there," he said firmly

"Not good enough," Luke disagreed. "I need a reason."

"Okay, how about the fact that her stare alone is a lethal weapon, and I'm too young to die?"

"It's not that bad."

"Well, you're not exactly doing cartwheels at the idea of going over there either, are you?"

Unable to argue, Luke said nothing. 

"So how long does this usually last?" Jess asked.

"It's usually over in a day."

"It's been at least four."

"Five," Luke quickly corrected, and they both fell silent. 

After a few moments, Jess ran a hand nervously through his hair and glanced at Luke out of the corner of his eye. "I bought Rory's picnic basket," he admitted.

"You outbid Dean?" Luke asked, surprised.

"He didn't put up much of a fight."

"And she had lunch with you?"

"Yeah."

There was a brief pause as Luke processed the information. "I'll take their order." 

"Good idea."

***

Jess watched from the counter as Luke walked over to the table, pen and pad of paper in hand. Much like they had been all week, Lorelai and Rory were sitting sullenly across from each other, both seemingly refusing to speak or make eye contact with one another. Jess's eyes focused on Rory. She sat with her left arm propped on the edge of the table, her chin resting on her hand. She was gazing out the window at the passersby, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Jess was well-acquainted with that look. 

When Luke reached the table, she turned her head to look at him and gave him a halfhearted smile. Jess saw Luke nod in acknowledgment before directing his attention to Lorelai. At that moment, Rory scanned the rest of the diner, and, before Jess had time to look away, her eyes met his. He saw something flicker in their depths – amusement, maybe – but then Luke spoke to her, and she broke contact.

Jess picked up his book and resumed his usual position at the counter, but he didn't read. Instead, he directed his gaze slightly above the top of the book in an effort to more discreetly observe what was going on at the Gilmore table. He watched as both women leaned back in their chairs, defensively crossing their arms over their chests. He watched as Luke switched his attention quickly from one woman to the other, trying to get their orders as fast and painlessly as possible. He watched as both Lorelai and Rory spoke curtly in one-word sentences. And, based on his observations and the look of increasing defeat on Luke's face, he decided that the process could go on indefinitely. Losing interest, he focused his entire attention on the book. About ten pages later, he looked up and saw Luke approaching from the tables. "They're gettin' two salads. Tell Caesar the greener, the better," he told Jess irritably. "I'm taking a break."

***

A short while later, Rory sat at the table, absently pushing pieces of lettuce around on her plate. Sighing, she stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork and popped it into her mouth. She then glanced at her mother, who was staring, flabbergasted, at the plate of vegetables before her. Rory knew she was dying to say something, anything, to immortalize this unprecedented moment, but instead she just silently gaped at the leafy manifestation of Luke's effrontery. Looking at her own plate, Rory's stomach growled. Sighing again, she set her fork on the plate with a loud clang and turned her eyes back to the window. Within seconds, a smile spread across her face, and her whole posture changed. Eagerly, she shifted her attention to the door, just in time to hear the bell jingle and see the face of her best friend peering around the doorframe. 

"Lane?" Rory questioned aloud, drawing her friend's attention and causing Lorelai to look towards the door. 

Lane smiled and slipped quickly into the diner. Then, walking briskly towards the register end of the counter, she raised her eyebrows at Rory and pointed animatedly at two stools. Placing her napkin on her partially eaten salad, Rory pushed it to the center of the table and darted over to join her friend.

Lorelai looked from Lane to her daughter to her salad. Sighing, she stood up, picked up her purse, and mumbled something inaudible before walking out the diner door.

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?" Rory asked as she slid onto the stool next to Lane's.

"Did I just see you eating a salad?"

"Oh… yeah," Rory said, glancing at the now-vacant table. "Don't ask."

"You went vegetarian, didn't you? And all because I wasn't here to talk you down from the ledge."

"No, the salad is Luke's version of tough love."

"Oh, so you and your mom are still fighting?"

"Actually, I think we've successfully moved onto the silent fuming portion of the program."

"Oh, well, good," Lane quipped. "At least progress is being made."

"Speaking of progress, what are you doing here? Did Mama Kim stay your execution?"

"Not exactly. We were about to head to the Friday Bible study group, which, by the way and perhaps not surprisingly, seems to be the liveliest of the daily Bible study groups."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they even add the occasional vocal inflection to the Bible readings. If I close my eyes, it's practically like being at a funky coffee shop poetry reading."

Rory gave Lane a skeptical look.

"Okay, so maybe closing my eyes leads to falling asleep which leads to dreams of being in a funky coffee shop listening to beat poetry. But when your actual existence involves sitting among a large group of considerably older Koreans reading Bible passages, you start to delude yourself into thinking your dreams are reality."

"Well then, delude away. Just try not to snore."

"I'll do my best," Lane promised. "I'm also trying to work on sleeping with my eyes open, but apparently I'm not a fast learner." 

"You know, closing your eyes might actually help because they probably think you're deep in meditation," Rory offered. 

"Good point," Lane said, nodding.

"So where's Mama Kim, and what happened to the lively Friday Bible study group? They might be gettin' that party started without you, you know."

"Oh, it doesn't actually start for a half hour, but Mama always likes to get there early, so we can get good seats. Although I'm still not quite sure what _exactly_ defines a good seat in a Bible study group or if one even exists. But, anyway, we were about to leave when a roaming antique collector from the Midwest arrived and wanted to take a look around the store."

"Roaming antique collector?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, apparently, he's spending his whole life going from city to city, antique store to antique store, searching for the perfect find. He ultimately wants to have the most impressive antique ever to be televised on 'Antiques Roadshow'."

"Lofty goals," Rory mused.

"He seems determined though. I suspect we'll see his name in PBS lights someday."

"What _is_ his name?"

"I don't actually know," Lane answered, thinking. "I guess I should've asked. After all, he's practically become my new hero. I've never seen someone sweet-talk Mama like he did. He actually convinced her to stay behind and let him look around. It's probably the first time in years that Mama's going to be on time to the group instead of early."

"Wow!"

"I know! She was so caught up in his enthusiasm that she told me I should walk to the group by myself and save her a seat. This is actually the first time I've been out of her sight since she found out about Henry."

"How are you doing?" Rory asked hesitantly, not wanting to push Lane to talk about the breakup if she didn't want to. "You seem better."

"The pain comes and goes. One minute I'm fine, the next I'm a post-Tony, pre-Gavin Gwen Stefani."

"I'm sorry," Rory said sincerely.

"Thanks. I'll be okay. On the bright side, now I can fill in yes after the question 'Have you ever had your heart broken?' on those silly email surveys."

"Maybe you can even type up a little anecdote." Rory offered.

"See, exactly. My own version of 'Tis better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all'."

"Next thing you know, you'll hear it on 'Friends'."

Lane nodded sadly, thinking about Henry. "Hey Rory."

"Yeah?"

"Can you send me a copy of that survey?"

"It'll be in your Inbox before the night is through," Rory assured her.

"Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Out of the corner of her eye, Rory saw Jess stand up and shove his book into his back pocket. Soon he appeared directly in her line of vision as he walked behind the counter towards the register to ring somebody up. Rory's eyes trailed his movements before turning back to Lane.

"So, what else have you been doing during your imprisonment?" she asked.

"Working on all of the homework I'm missing, moping, listening to music. My 'Beat Happening' cds have become my companions in despair."

"Beat Happening?" Rory asked incredulously.

Lane shrugged. "Some people favor melodic, haunting music during times of depression; I prefer my breakup music loud, distorted, and as out of tune as possible."

"You should try 'The Shaggs'," Jess interjected from his position behind the register.

"Excuse me?" Lane said as both girls turned their attention to him.

"The Shaggs," Jess repeated, leaving the register and moving to stand across the counter from them. "A makeshift girl band from the late 1960s. If you're looking for out-of-tune brilliance, they're your band."

"But they're _so_ bad that I couldn't even make it through half of the album. They take awful to unsurpassed levels." 

"Not that people haven't tried," Jess added.

"The Vaselines, for example."

"Jonathan Richman," Jess offered.

"But who wouldn't fall in love with 'My Little Kookenhaken'," Lane remarked. "What about Deerhoof?" she threw back.

"Marine Girls."

"Tracey Thorn's old band?"

"Sure," Jess replied. "There are definite similarities in the way the vocals don't quite match the underlying melody of the instruments. Listen to 'Place in the Sun'."

"But the thing about Marine Girls is that there _is _an instrumental melody," Lane pointed out. "The same can't be said of The Shaggs."

"True," Jess agreed. "But there's definitely some Shaggs inspiration lurking there."

"I think that's debatable."

"Okay, but their influence on Half Japanese is not."

"True, they do approach the ranks of the unlistenable, but they're still more musical than The Shaggs."

"Which is what makes The Shaggs so special. No band in history has been able to capture their weird, un-self-conscious mix of vocals and instrumentation."

"But that's because The Shaggs didn't set out to mimic a sound," Lane said.

"Exactly. It's the purest form of music. Completely unaffected by trends or public expectations."

"And completely incapable of being tolerated by the human eardrum," Lane finished. "I think I'll stick with Beat Happening."

"Suit yourself," Jess said with a shrug before walking off to take the orders of some customers who'd just walked in.

"Okay, what just happened here?" Lane asked, turning to Rory, who'd been silently enjoying their debate.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear I just had a conversation with Jess Mariano."

"You did," Rory affirmed.

"No, we're talking an _actual_ conversation. It could probably even be classified as a debate. I didn't even think he knew how to formulate a sentence beyond 'Can I borrow a pen?' and 'Can I take your order?' Are you sure I wasn't hallucinating?"

"Nope, it's true," Rory teased. "Jess can speak in full paragraphs if the spirit moves him."

"Wow," Lane enthused, amazed. "And it was even fun. It's not often someone around here can talk music beyond Britney Spears and Michael Bolton."

"Hey!" Rory protested.

"Present company excluded, of course."

"And don't you forget it," Rory instructed. "Michael Bolton?" she asked, crinkling her nose.

"Kirk," Lane said, by way of explanation. "You know, I think that conversation just might get me through the next week of solitary confinement."

"Well, I'll be sure to thank Jess for you."

"Oh my God," Lane exclaimed, looking at her watch. "How long have I been here?"

"Um… fifteen minutes maybe," Rory guessed.

"Okay, that still gives me fifteen minutes to get over there and try to figure out which seat Mama would consider good today."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll try to talk to you soon," Lane said, jumping off her stool and heading towards the door.

"I dare you to snap your fingers after one of the readings," Rory called after her.

"Don't tempt me!" Lane replied. Then, with one, last, small wave goodbye, she hurried out the door and down the street.

***

Her mood considerably better after seeing Lane, Rory smiled to herself and turned back around on the stool to face the counter. The enticing smell of onion rings wafted over to her, and again, her stomach growled. She was considering whether or not she should order something or just wait a few hours until dinner at her grandparents' house when Jess walked back around the counter and towards the opening to the kitchen. He handed the order over to Caesar and then strolled over to where Rory was seated.

"Hey," she said softly, looking up at him. 

"Hey," he answered noncommittally. "Just so you know, your friend is crazy. The Shaggs album is amazing."

"Yeah, according to Lane, it's amazingly awful," Rory teased. "But I've never heard it, so I won't judge."

"Fair enough."

"You sort of made her day, you know."

"Whose?" Jess asked.

"Lane's. Things haven't been so great for her lately, but she loves discussing music."

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Well, it was for her."

"For the most part, she really knows what she's talking about," Jess said, impressed.

"Yes, she does," Rory proudly agreed. "And apparently so do you. You two should talk more often."

"Don't count on it," Jess dismissed. 

"You should really give people a chance; they just might surprise you."

"Not likely." 

"If you say so," Rory shrugged, looking away.

"So how was your salad?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Healthy."

"Which, in Gilmore-speak, means disgusting. Do you want something? You must be hungry."

"I'm fine."

"Rory, I heard your stomach growl from across the room. So either you're hungry or you're about to reenact a scene from 'Alien'. Personally, I'm hoping it's option 1."

"Fine, I'll have a basket of onion rings."

"Coming right up," Jess said as he headed over to tell Caesar.

"And a cup of coffee," she added.

Jess smirked and placed her order with Caesar. On his way back, he grabbed a mug and filled it to the rim, then he set it in front of her and leaned forward, his elbows on the counter. He watched as she took a sip, and then he asked bluntly, "So what's going on between you and your mom?"

"Nothing," she answered, staring into her cup.

"Right," Jess drawled.

"We just got into a fight. It's no big deal."

"You two barely ever fight."

"How do you know? You've lived here less than a year."

"I know," Jess said confidently, his eyes catching Rory's in their gaze and conveying wisdom beyond his years. Intrigued, Rory had to force herself to look away. Slowly, her hands feeling unwieldy and cumbersome, she raised the cup to her lips and took another sip.

"What was it about?" he pressed.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, until today, you hadn't said two words to me since Sunday," Jess pointed out.

"That has nothing to do with it," Rory said defensively.

"I didn't say it did."

"Good because it didn't."

"But either way, I'm pretty sure that whatever you're fighting about probably isn't worth it."

"What if it is?" she demanded, looking back up at him boldly, her eyes challenging his.

"Is it?" 

Unsure, she hesitated, processing his question, her mind at war with her heart. The silence roared in Jess's ears, but steadily, he ignored it and waited. 

Finally, haltingly, she raised her eyes again. As soon as they met his, she knew the answer. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded and whispered, "It's worth it." 

"Then she'll come around," he promised before walking over to grab her order of onion rings, a small but hopeful smile on his face.


	10. Just Like Old Times

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 10: Just Like Old Times**

_A/N: Thanks for the fabulous reviews! Each and every one of them made me smile. I think you're all wonderful for taking the time to read and review my story, and I appreciate it immensely. Special thanks, again, to **AvidTVfan** for being one cool and incredibly patient chick. That said, here's Chapter 10 with my apologies. I'm afraid it might prove that quantity doesn't always equal quality. It's been the bane of my existence for a good month now, so I've decided to finally let it loose on the world. Your opinions, good or bad, are welcomed. Lastly, my usual disclaimer: all portions of actual GG script do not belong to me; I use them with the utmost respect for their authors and should be granted no credit for their brilliance. Okay, that's it… enjoy! ~Becka_

A short while later, Rory finished the last of her onion rings and stood up to go. Setting some money on the counter, she glanced around the diner for Jess and found him by a table, taking someone's order. As soon as he'd brought her rings, the Stars Hollow dinner crowd had arrived, and he'd been busy taking and delivering orders ever since. Occasionally, he'd glanced at her as he'd made his way back and forth from the kitchen to the tables, but they hadn't had another opportunity to speak. Though, in Rory's opinion, that was probably just as well. 

With a small sense of relief, she headed towards the door.  Before she reached it, however, she couldn't resist taking one last look at him, and, just as she did so, he looked up and saw that she was leaving. Suddenly faced with too many inadequate ways to bid someone goodbye, she found herself at a loss as to what to do. It didn't matter though because, almost immediately, another customer needed Jess's attention, and he looked away. Sighing, she pulled open the door and stepped outside into the cool, spring air. Fighting the urge to watch him through the diner window as she passed, she headed home. 

***

Rory entered the house and, after closing the door behind her, walked into the living room. Lorelai was sitting on the couch, robotically flipping through the television channels; even though she wasn't paying the least bit of attention to what was flashing past, she barely looked up as Rory entered the room.  Whereas most days, they would animatedly exchange whatever noteworthy and not-so-noteworthy things had happened to them in their brief time apart, today the only sound was the indecipherable hodgepodge of channel-surfing noises.  

"We need to be at my parents' house in an hour and a half," Lorelai finally said, her eyes not straying from the television set.

"I know," Rory replied, and again, silence took over. She watched her mother for a moment, tired of fighting; then, frustrated, she headed towards her room to change.

As soon as Rory's bedroom door clicked shut, Lorelai turned off the television and glanced in its direction. Then, sighing, she stood and trudged upstairs to change her own clothes. 

 ***

The car ride was long and excruciating. If it weren't for the slight salvation of the classic '60s radio station, neither woman probably would've survived with her sanity intact. They missed each other; they wanted the fight to be over; but they were both far too stubborn to ever be the first to apologize. Like mother, like daughter...

As soon as they'd pulled into the driveway and stopped, they quickly unbuckled their seatbelts and got out of the jeep. Usually, they'd sit and debate the merits of actually going into the house for the Friday dinner, putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. Today, they figured the dinner couldn't be much worse than the torture they were already inflicting on each other.

Lorelai approached the door and knocked, with Rory standing a short distance behind her. When the maid of the moment answered the door, Lorelai didn't even bother to make a quippy remark. She just smiled slightly, handed over her coat, and proceeded into the other room. Rory offered the maid a quiet "Hi" and "Thank you", as she did the same. 

"Lorelai! Rory!" Emily greeted them happily as they entered the room. She paused, glancing at her watch. "Well, isn't that strange," she remarked, bewildered.

"What?" Lorelai asked.

"I think my watch must be broken. I wonder when that happened." She paused and held it up to her ear. "No, it's ticking. What time do you have?"

"5:45," Rory answered.

"That can't be right," Emily disagreed. "That would mean you two are early."

"You must've missed the pigs flying overhead this afternoon."

"The what?" Emily asked, looking at her daughter.

"We're early," Lorelai stated.

"So you are."

"If it'll help, we can go run around the block a few times," Lorelai offered.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Emily answered, frowning. "In fact, I think you two should make a regular habit of being early for things. Punctuality says a lot about a person."

"Yeah, well, I've heard rumors about what Punctuality has to say about me, and, believe me, it isn't pretty," Lorelai joked. 

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind," Lorelai dismissed. "It's not important."

"Would you two like something to drink?" Emily asked as she approached the drink cart.

"Just water," Rory said, sitting down on the couch.

"Anything with a high percentage of alcohol is fine," Lorelai said, sitting down on the very opposite end of the couch from Rory.

When Emily turned around to hand them their drinks, she noticed their seating arrangement but wisely said nothing. Instead, she took her seat and calmly sipped her drink.  She watched her daughter and granddaughter closely as they uncomfortably sipped their own drinks. "So," she began, drawing their attention. "Anything interesting happen this week?"

"Nope," Lorelai said.

"Not really," Rory agreed.

"Oh, all right," Emily accepted, somewhat dejectedly. There was a long pause as she observed the girls, while they looked at anything but each other.  "Well," she began again. "What about that auction? I seem to remember you both talking about it incessantly last Friday. How did it go?"

Rory glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye and saw her tense slightly. "It was fine, Grandma."

"What about you, Lorelai?" Emily pushed, turning her attention to her daughter. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It had its moments," she said curtly.

"I see. Well, we obviously know who bid on Rory's basket," Emily observed, not noticing the way Rory blushed and shifted uncomfortably at her statement. "But what about you? Who bid on yours?"

"Uh… Luke did," Lorelai said nonchalantly before immediately taking a large swig of her drink. Surprised, Rory looked over at her mother. With their fight and subsequent lack of communication, she hadn't gotten a chance to ask her who'd bid on her basket. In fact, it had completely slipped her mind. 

"Luke?" Emily repeated.

"Yes, _Luke_."

"Luke who works in that diner?"

"No, Luke from _General Hospital_," Lorelai said sarcastically. "Of course, Luke who works in _that_ diner."

"_He_ bid on your basket?"

"Again, yes."

"Luke bid on your basket," Emily stated, the corners of her lips curling up in a slight, knowing smile.

"And Polly wants a cracker," Lorelai observed. "We get the point."

Lorelai's comment only served to heighten Emily's amusement. Eyes twinkling, she took another sip of her drink.

"Okay, what is that?" Lorelai asked.

"What?"

"That look."

"What look?" Emily repeated.

"That look! You have the same look you had the time you found out that Mrs. Ponde's house is 50 square feet smaller than yours."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily demurred. 

"You look like you just devoured a village full of small children."

"That's absurd. I have no such look," she denied.

"Fine, you know what," Lorelai sighed. "Forget it. I don't think I want the look explained." There was a short pause before Emily spoke again. 

"So, out of curiosity, how much did Luke from the diner pay for your basket?" she asked.

"You can just say Luke."

"What?"

"His name isn't 'Luke from the diner'. We all know which Luke Luke is, so you can just say Luke."

"Fine, how much did _Luke_," Emily emphasized, "pay for your basket?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I've never attended a basket auction. I'm just curious how much these things generally cost."

"Planning to bid on one next year?" Lorelai asked.

"No, of course not. Why are you being so difficult? It's a simple enough question."

"Then why don't you ask Rory how much _Dean_ paid for her basket?" she asked irritably. Her irritation quickly turned to regret, however, when she saw hurt and betrayal flash through her daughter's eyes.

"I will ask Rory, but first I asked you."

"Okay, fine," Lorelai sighed, giving up, the argument less important to her at that moment than the defeated look on her daughter's face. "Luke paid $52.50 for my basket. Happy?"

"Very," Emily said, satisfied. "Now then, what about you, Rory? How much did Dean pay for your basket?"

"Oh… well," Rory stammered uncomfortably. "He didn't really… he… it wasn't exactly…"

"It wasn't exactly what?" Emily asked, confused.

"The bidding stopped at $90," Rory said abruptly, instinctively choosing to omit the one other important piece of information.

"$90?" Emily exclaimed.

Rory nodded hesitantly.

"That's quite a bit of money for a boy like Dean to spend. Good for him. I think it's lovely that he's willing to pay a little more to show you how much you mean to him," Emily remarked, smiling in approval.  

"Thanks, Grandma," Rory mumbled, staring down at her hands.

Emily looked curiously at Rory, and then, distracted, slightly sniffed the air. "Do you two smell something?" she asked quickly.

Lorelai shook her head. "I don't."

"Exactly!" Emily cried. "Dinner should be served in a few minutes, and yet we can't smell it. This new cook keeps forgetting to turn on the oven," she said, annoyed. "I'm going to go check on her." Without another word, Emily rose and hurried into the kitchen.

After she'd left, Lorelai glanced at Rory. Feeling her mother's gaze, Rory looked up. They both seemed like they wanted to say something, but instead, simultaneously, they folded their arms over their chests, slumped back, and, completely silent, waited for Emily to return.

***

Rory and Lorelai's postures hadn't changed much by the time they were situated at the dinner table with Emily. They sat silently across from one another, sullen and very deliberately eating their dinner, while Emily tried to fill the silence by prattling on about Richard's latest exploits.

"A cigar club!" Emily exclaimed, looking at her dining companions as she told her story. "Can you imagine a more disgusting organization to join? Your grandfather now pays money to sit in an enclosed room with a bunch of other men and blow smoke in each other's faces. Twice a week, he comes home smelling like a flophouse." Pausing, she looked at Lorelai and then at Rory; neither woman seemed to be paying much attention to her story. "So I finally just confronted him," she continued. "I said, 'Richard, I know you're going through a transitional period here, and I encourage your trying out new things, but this seems completely out of character for you.'" Again, she paused. "I'm sorry, am I boring you?" she finally asked, obviously offended.

"No, you're not," Lorelai said weakly, glancing at her mother. 

"Sorry, Grandma," Rory apologized.

Deciding perhaps a new tactic was necessary, Emily turned her attention to Lorelai, "So, how are things at the inn? 

"Fine… the same," Lorelai answered.

"And Rory, aside from bidding on baskets, how's that boyfriend of yours?" 

"Apparently very _chatty_," Rory pointedly remarked.

Sighing in annoyance, Lorelai shifted her position and shot daggers at her daughter.

"Well, that's nice," Emily commented, picking up on the tension. "Lorelai," she tried again.  "Anything new with you?"

"No, nothing. It's been pretty quiet around the house lately," she replied, looking straight at her daughter.

"Well, sometimes quiet can be nice. Soothing. You can hear yourself think," Emily babbled, glancing at both of the women. Getting the same non-reactions, she decided enough was enough. "All right, what's going on with you two?" she asked, dropping her silverware onto her plate with a clang.

"Nothing," Lorelai mumbled.

"It's not nothing. You've both been sitting here all night, barely saying a word unless spoken to and not even looking at each other except to glare. Are you in a fight?"

"I'm not," Lorelai stated. 

"Please!" Rory remarked.

"Please what? You are the one who's been freezing me out all week."

"I just haven't had anything to say," Rory replied before being interrupted by the beeping of her pager. Reaching into her purse, she pulled it out and glanced at the text message: _Rory, I'm really sorry. We need to talk. I miss you. Give me a call tonight… please. Love, Dean_.

"Who is it?" Lorelai asked, pulling Rory's attention away from the message.

"No one."

"Why won't you tell me who?" Lorelai pushed, all of her emotions from the past week quickly rising to the surface. 

"Cause it's no one."

"Is it _Jess_?" she asked, spitting out his name angrily.

"You're kidding, right?" Rory said in disbelief.

"Jess? Who's Jess?" Emily interjected, confused.

"No, I'm not kidding," Lorelai continued, ignoring her mother.

"Why would you automatically assume that it's Jess?" Rory asked.

"Because why won't you tell me who it is?" Lorelai threw back.

"Who's Jess?" Emily asked again.

"Luke's nephew," Lorelai explained.

"It's not Jess, okay?" Rory said defensively. "It's Dean! You wanna read it? Oh wait, no. Dean will probably tell you all about it later."

"That's not funny," Lorelai said, shaking her head. "You know, all week you've been –"

"We're not getting into this again."

"What?" Emily asked, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Getting into what? Is it about this Jess? The thing you're not getting into again?"

"You know, you never liked Dean at the beginning," Rory reminded her mother.

"That's because I didn't know him."

"And now you don't like Jess?"

"That's because I know him," Lorelai explained.

"Are you dating Jess? What happened to Dean?" Emily asked.

"I'm not dating Jess," Rory said, glancing at her grandmother.

"No, but he's trying to weasel his way in."

"He's _not_ trying to weasel his way."

"In where?" Emily asked.

"In Rory's world. He has his eye on her, and he's trouble."

"He's not trouble," Rory disagreed.

"Yes, he is," Lorelai contended. "And, you know, since we're on the topic of Jess, all week, I've been wondering something… when did all of this happen?"

"All of what?" Rory asked.

"You, spending so much time with him. I can't figure out how I missed it. He moves here, you two barely speak two words to each other, and suddenly you're hanging out together, and he's bidding on your basket?"

"Jess bid on Rory's basket?" Emily asked, surprised. "I thought Dean bought Rory's basket."

"Jess outbid Dean," Lorelai explained.

"Why would Jess outbid Dean? Dean's her boyfriend."

"Exactly my point! Tell us, Rory," Lorelai said, turning back to her daughter." Why would Jess outbid Dean?"

"I don't know," Rory stammered. "Because he wanted to, I guess."

"And because he doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his way," Lorelai finished.

"That isn't true; he didn't _hurt_ anyone."

"What about Dean?"

"Dean overreacted."

"What about you?"

"What are you talking about? Jess hasn't hurt me."

"But he will."

"I can't believe this," Rory said, amazed. "Is this how it's going to be now? Just because you think that, maybe, someday, Jess _might_ hurt me, I'm not supposed to talk to him? I guess I better watch out for the mailman then because someday he might put an extra sharp letter in our mailbox, and I might get a paper cut. Or what about Taylor? He's been known to hurt people's feelings. Should I avoid him too?" Rory ranted. "And then there's Dean. He isn't perfect, you know. Maybe he'll break up with me or cheat on me or…"

"Rory," Emily interrupted. "If your mother thinks this boy isn't appropriate company for you, then you need to listen to her. _She_ knows what's best for you, and that's that."

"There! Thank you, Mom," Lorelai said, nodding in agreement.

For a second, Rory just looked at her mother, flabbergasted. She couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Not sure what to say anymore, she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. "Excuse me, but I just don't feel very hungry right now," she said before quickly leaving the room.

***

Walking into her grandfather's study, Rory shut the door loudly behind her and flopped into a leather armchair. She sat for a moment, unsure what to do. Then, she remembered what had happened between Jess and Lane earlier that day in the diner, and, armed with an idea, she walked over to the desk.  Picking up the phone, she dialed a number.

"Kim's Antiques," Mrs. Kim answered. "We're closed; call tomorrow."

"Mrs. Kim, it's Rory."

"It's after nine," she reminded her.

"I know."

"Lane can't talk after nine."

"Mrs. Kim, I promise I will never again call Lane after nine," Rory said desperately. "But can I please just talk to her now? Just this once?"

Mrs. Kim hesitated. "Okay, just this once."

"Thank you," Rory said gratefully.

After a moment, Mrs. Kim came back on the phone. "Rory?"

"Yes?"

"Lane's not feeling well. She needs to call you tomorrow."

"Oh," Rory said, disappointed. "Okay. Um, thanks anyhow."

"Yes, goodbye," Mrs. Kim said before hanging up.

Rory hung up her grandfather's phone and looked at it for a second, hoping Lane was okay. Then, sighing, she leaned back in the desk chair and looked around the room.  Her eyes fell on a nearby bookshelf. Curious, she stood and walked over to it, scanning the titles. It didn't take long before her eyes fell on the spine of one particular hard-cover book. Smiling, she pulled it from the shelf and flipped to the first page. Reading as she walked, she went back to the armchair and sat down.

***

Rory had only been reading for a few pages when there was a knock on the door. 

"Hey, can I come in?" Lorelai asked hesitantly.

"It's not my house; I can't stop you."

"Just listen to me for one second, okay?" 

Placing the book out of view at her side, Rory leaned back in the armchair and sighed. 

"No sighing," Lorelai said. "Just let me talk."

"Go ahead," Rory agreed, leaning forward as Lorelai walked around the chair and sat down on the ottoman.

Lorelai paused, looking closely at her daughter. "I don't wanna lock you up and throw away the key," she began.

"Well, good," Rory said, confused.

"Your judgment means something, especially to me. I can't be your eyes and your ears and your brain."

"I'm trying really hard to connect the dots here."

"I got spooked," Lorelai admitted. "I know it violates the fabulous, cool mom clause we're supposed to have going, but I did, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I just feel like, lately, there's been stuff going on with you, and you haven't felt comfortable talking to me about it and that scares me."

"I'm not trying to keep things from you."

"I know. I know that. But I guess that whole snowman thing threw me for more of a loop than I first thought. The idea that you snuck out and did that and were never gonna tell me…"

"I should have told you," Rory agreed.

"Or at least invited me to help," Lorelai joked.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. And I'm sorry I made it seem like I was waiting for the right moment to use it against you. It wasn't an evil plan."

"I know," Rory said honestly.

"That said, I'm not gonna deny that I'm concerned about Jess."

"Well, you shouldn't be."

"But I am. _However_, you are a smart girl; you're a good judge of character; and the fact that he seems to like you gives him a couple of brownie points. You're not a little kid. I don't actually think you were ever a little kid."

"I was, for about a month," Rory admitted.

"If you think he's a decent guy, I have to respect your judgment."

"Thank you."

"But I'm asking you to be careful."

"I will," Rory assured her.

"Really careful."

"I will."

"'Boy in the plastic bubble' kind of careful."

"I promise."

"And no more crime sprees."

"Oh…" Rory said hesitantly.

"'Oh'? I don't think I like the sounds of that 'oh'", Lorelai said, concerned. "Don't tell me you've been knocking over banks in your spare time."

"No, not banks," Rory hedged.

"Convenience stores then?"

"I stole a table number!" Rory blurted.

"You stole a what?"

"A table number… from Pete's."

"Well, it's about time," Lorelai said, relaxing.

Rory paused, caught off-guard by her mother's response. "It is?"

"Everyone steals those, babe. It's a rite of passage."

Rory smiled. "So I hear."

"My baby's growing up," Lorelai remarked, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye. "Which number did you get?" she asked eagerly.

"Nine."

"Excellent choice," Lorelai nodded. "I've obviously raised you well. So, snowman destruction… petty theft… are there any other crimes I should know about?"

"Nope, just those two."

"Well, good, because, in case you've forgotten, you vowed many years ago that you'd be the Louise to my Thelma. I don't need you running off and becoming someone else's Bonnie instead."

"I won't," Rory promised.

"So, can we officially declare this fight over?"

"Fight over," Rory agreed.

"And I didn't even have to bite off your ear," Lorelai said, standing up.

"Maybe, next time," Rory suggested, rising as well.

Remembering something, Lorelai turned back to her daughter. "Oh, hey, Rory."

"Yeah?"

"You should think about cutting Dean some slack. He's crazy about you. He didn't mean anything by coming to me. He just wigged."

"I know."

Lorelai nodded, and, together, they headed towards the door.

"You still don't look okay," Rory observed, glancing at her mother.

"Oh, well," Lorelai said sadly. "My mother agreed with me tonight."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

***

"I need a shower!" Lorelai declared as they walked through their front door later that night.

"Don't be so dramatic."

"'I agree with you a hundred percent.'" Lorelai mimicked as she took off her coat. "Ugh!"

"Go upstairs," Rory ordered.

"Find a movie; I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay."

"'I agree with you a hundred percent,'" Lorelai repeated, heading up the stairs. "I may have to shave my head also."

"Bye!" Rory called after her. Once her mother reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner, Rory paused and looked around nervously. She eyed the phone for a moment, and, then, making up her mind, she grabbed it from the table and headed to her room. Closing the door, she dialed a number and sat down on her bed. After a couple of rings, the other line was picked up.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Hi," Jess repeated, smiling.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. You?"

"Nothing."

"Why'd you call?" he asked, curious.

"I, um," she stammered. "I wanted to…"

"I'm glad you called," he interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because maybe you can explain what the hell this crazy woman is talking about," he said, looking down at the book in his hand.

"Ah, The Fountainhead!"

"Yes. Your fault," he reprimanded. "And you will pay."

"I promise. Commit to it one more time, and, if it still is awful for you, I will make it up to you."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," she agreed, leaning back against her pillow.

"Okay. I'm gonna hold you to that," he vowed, smirking.

There was a brief pause while Rory also smiled. "So," she began again. "Which part has you so confused?"

"I don't even know," he answered, chuckling.  "I think she lost me about 30 pages ago. I'm basically just reading the words now. It's a lost cause."

"No, it's not," Rory promised. "What page are you on?"

Pausing, Jess glanced down at the book. "Uh… 230, I guess."

"Oh, well, that's the part where…"

"You don't _seriously_ know what happens on page 230, do you?" he asked, amazed.

"No, not really," Rory teased. "But I figured you wouldn't know the difference."

"Very funny. Some help you are."

Rory laughed. "Sorry. Tomorrow, I will take a look at page 230 and see if I can "Cliff's Note" it for you."

"How about you just summarize the whole book, and we can pretend like I read it?" he suggested.

"Hey," Rory argued. "I'll have you know that I was reading Hemingway, as promised, less than an hour ago."

"You were?"

"Yep. A first edition, even. I found it in my grandfather's study."

"I'm impressed. How far did you get?"

"Well…" Rory hesitated, thinking about how dull and slow the book was.

"That's what I thought," Jess laughed.

"Maybe we should just give up and agree to disagree."

"No way! You're just trying to back out of your promise," Jess teased.

"Rory!" Lorelai called from the living room. "Where's the movie?"

"Jess," Rory said quickly. "I've gotta go."

"Okay."

"Sorry. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye," she finished abruptly, hanging up before she even had a chance to hear him return the goodbye. Holding the phone in her hand, she headed towards the bedroom door and opened it, just as Lorelai's hand was poised to knock.

"Oh, hey," Lorelai said, looking down at the phone in Rory's hand. "Did you call someone?"

"Oh, yeah… Dean."

"Really? Good," Lorelai smiled. "How'd it go?"

"He wasn't home."

"Oh, well, tomorrow then."

"Yeah, tomorrow," Rory quietly agreed. "So what movie were you thinking?"

"Hmm… good question," Lorelai pondered as they both headed into the living room. 

***

"I think I had a nightmare last night," Lorelai said the next morning as she and Rory walked side-by-side towards Luke's.

"It wasn't the one with the school field trip and the woods and the hyenas and the men dressed like hyenas…"

"And those weird vials full of the fluorescent blue liquid?" Lorelai asked, shuddering. "Thank God, no."

"Yeah, because those vials were the weird part," Rory remarked sarcastically.

"Well, those vials certainly weren't normal."

"No argument here," Rory agreed. "So, if it wasn't that nightmare, what was it?"  
"Well, you and I were fighting."

"That really happened," Rory pointed out. "You and I _were_ fighting."

"I'm not completely unhinged. I realize that was reality."

"Sorry," Rory apologized. "Continue."

"You and I were fighting, and we went to Luke's."

"Okay."

"At least it looked like Luke's," Lorelai clarified. "It had tables and walls and a floor."

"Definitely sounds like Luke's," Rory teased.

"And Luke looked like Luke."

"Did he have a nametag on?"

"Umm, no."

"Then, maybe Luke wasn't Luke. Maybe Luke was Tom Cruise, but, in your dream, Tom looked like Luke, just like, last week, when you dreamt that Jude Law was really Fisher Stevenson disguised as Bruce Springsteen."

"But Bruce had a 'Dave Coulier' nametag on, which means your logic is flawed," Lorelai countered.

"So it was Luke."

"It was definitely Luke," Lorelai affirmed.

"So we were fighting, and we went to a place with walls, a floor, and tables, and Luke who wasn't Tom was there? And that was your nightmare?"

"No! The nightmare was the salad."

"The salad?" Rory asked, confused.

"The huge, green salad… in the massive, wooden bowl… packed with tomatoes and carrots and celery and those disgusting organic sprouty things!"

"Was the salad chasing you around the diner?"

"No."

"Then how is this a nightmare?"

"Luke made us eat it!"

"The salad?"

"Yes."

"Oh," Rory said, looking at her mother strangely.

"What?"

"That really happened. Yesterday."

"It did?"

"Yep."

"But he wouldn't!" Lorelai declared dramatically.

"And the hinge wiggles loose."

"Luke really made us eat salad?"

"He did."

"But the image seems so foggy and nightmarish."

"Well, you were food-deprived at the time."

"Good point. I can't believe he made us eat salad."

"It was pretty inhumane," Rory agreed.

Considering the situation, Lorelai looked down the street to gauge their distance from the diner. "Okay, we have three blocks to plot our revenge."

"My name is Lorelai Gilmore. You fed me salad. Prepare to die," Rory declared as her mother brainstormed. 

"Okay. Option 1. How about we go buy twenty or thirty cell phones, arrange it so they'll all start ringing at the same time, and then hand them to customers as they enter the diner?"

"It gets points for creativity," Rory evaluated. "But it's elaborate, expensive, and it'll require planning. Plus, I want coffee."

"Yeah, me too," Lorelai agreed. "Okay, Option 2… uh... well, there's the classic choice. We could put rat poisoning in the food and shut the place down?"

"I'm supposed to be avoiding a life of crime, remember?"

"Right, right. Hmmm…"

"We're almost there," Rory remarked, grinning. "Better hurry."

"Okay, how about this?" Lorelai said, stopping right below the steps to the diner. "You create a distraction, and I'll run behind the counter and wrap a rubber-band around the faucet sprayer, so when he turns on the faucet, he'll get a face-full of water?"

"What if Jess turns on the faucet?"

"All the better!" Lorelai declared, grinning evilly.

"Mom…"

"Fine; I don't have a rubber-band anyway," she moped, her shoulders slumped in exaggerated defeat as she walked up the steps to the door.

Sighing heavily, she was just about to reach for the handle to push the door open when Rory stopped her and said very seriously, "I have an idea. How about you just demand coffee over and over again, ask him a million personal questions, and call him Duke repeatedly?"

"Just like old times? Hmmm… I like it!" Lorelai brightened, grinning mischievously as they walked into the diner, the bell ringing ominously to announce their arrival.

***

Both Jess and Luke looked up as the Gilmore girls entered the diner, chatting excitedly with each other. Despite himself, Jess smiled a little and glanced at Luke, who was grinning from ear to ear, happy to see that the storm had blown over. 

Shifting his eyes back to the girls, Jess saw Lorelai whisper something to Rory, and Rory nodded in agreement. Looking a lot like the Cheshire cat's long-lost twin, Lorelai approached the counter and sat down on a stool right in front of Luke. "Hey Duke… Rory and I would like two coffees."

"What did you just call me?" Luke asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I swear, you just said Duke."

"Nope, I definitely said Luke. Can we get that coffee?"

"Sure," Luke said, looking at her strangely before moving to grab the coffeepot.

Deciding it might be best to steer clear of the situation, Jess held a mug out towards Luke. After Luke had filled it, Jess glanced warily at Lorelai and stepped around the counter to bring Rory her coffee.

"Hey," he said casually, setting the mug in front of her.

"Hey," she replied quickly before snatching it up and taking a big gulp, her eyes still focused on her mother and Luke.

"What's going on with your mom?"

"She's exacting her revenge," Rory explained, eyes twinkling.

"For what?"

"The salad."

"I see. So the fight must be over then?" he asked.

She turned her eyes to him. "It is."

"Who won?"

"It was a draw."

"Huh," he said, nodding.

"I'm sorry I hung up so fast last night," Rory apologized.

Jess shrugged, his eyes turning towards the diner window and following someone's path to the door.

Rory was about to turn to look when the diner bell chimed, and the customer immediately appeared at the table. 

"Hey," Dean said quietly to Rory, doing his best to ignore Jess.

"Hey," Rory whispered, shifting uncomfortably.

"You didn't call me last night," he remarked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"My mom and I watched a movie, so I didn't get a chance," Rory explained, causing Jess to raise an eyebrow and smirk slightly.

"It's okay," Dean assured her. Then, he glanced at Jess, noticing his smirk. Fighting the urge to physically wipe the smirk off his face, Dean turned back to Rory.  "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Um… sure," Rory agreed, standing up. "Thanks for the coffee, Jess," she said softly, her eyes meeting his only briefly as she followed Dean out of the diner.

After they left, Jess moved over to a recently vacated table and began to stack the dishes, his eyes focused on the couple outside. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but Dean seemed to be doing all of the talking. As the conversation continued, he watched as Rory relaxed, seemingly accepting what Dean was saying. When Dean finally stopped talking, she smiled and said something back. Dean grinned and nodded, then leaned down and kissed her. As Rory stepped closer to her boyfriend and reached her hand up to rest on his shoulder while they kissed, Jess stopped mid-motion, his chest constricting painfully. He continued to watch for a second, then, he looked down and finished cleaning the table. By the time he walked behind the counter to put the dishes in the sink, his face was emotionless.


	11. A Book and Record Love

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 11: A Book-and-Record Love**

**_A/N_**_: No, your eyes aren't deceiving you! This is a new chapter of "Defending Bjork." As I'm sure you know, it's been a long, long, **long** time coming, but I finally managed to jump various life hurdles and get writing again. As penance, I'm offering you an extra-super-duper long update. Insanely long. Unbearably long! I had a great time writing it, so I hope it was worth the wait. Along the way, I was about to give up on the whole thing, so I (and anyone who enjoys this story) owe some people a deep debt of gratitude. While I know no one likes long author's notes, I gotta do it. Jump ahead to the story, if you must. **Ali**, **Green** **Eve, **Kat**, & ****Kim...  you four are an endless source of gape-mouthed awe and inspiration! The fanfiction community is unbelievably lucky to have you. And **Shannon**, thanks for all of the brainstorming assistance! I couldn't have even begun this chapter without your help. Now get writing! **__J___

_This chapter is dedicated to the **FanForum** **girls and the ****Stars-**Hollow**.****org ****Literatis... and, most of all, to my sister **Sarah**, who read this chapter every step of the way and remained positive and helpful, despite my complaining. Lastly, to everyone who's stuck with this story so far, I hope you enjoy the chapter. I still like reviews! *nudge nudge***_

**_Disclaimer_**_: Any borrowed dialogue and/or plot points should be attributed to the brilliant writers of "Gilmore Girls" (except for the cherry bit, which, for the record, I wrote first. Pfft on them!). ___

Refilled coffee mug in hand, Lorelai walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, her eyes falling on the double-issue magazine she'd been reading and silently mocking just moments before. Taking a sip of her drink, she scanned the cover titles again. "The Hottest Hemlines for Summer." "From Flannel to Fabulous: Male Makeovers." "10 Ways to Thaw Your Frosty Love Life."  Rolling her eyes, she glanced over at her daughter's bedroom door, hoping Rory would be awake and prepared to distract her. She listened carefully, waiting for any sign of activity. When she got nothing but silence in return, she sighed and, against her better judgment, allowed her gaze to trail back over to the magazine. As she read the titles again, she felt herself succumbing to the patented, grocery store check-out aisle brand of wisdom. "Secrets About Spas You Never Knew." "Rope a Bad Boy Without Getting Burned." Before she could get sucked in even further, she tore her eyes away and leaned back against the couch. Bringing the cup to her lips for another sip, she made a concerted effort to focus on nothing, but, soon, almost of their own free will, her eyes journeyed back to the glossy cover. "Quiz: Are You a Vampire Slayer or a Damsel in Distress?" Her fingertips tapped lightly against the side of her ceramic mug as she mulled the inaccuracy of the score she'd gotten.  After a moment, she leaned forward and flipped through the magazine pages until she reached the one she wanted. Her eyes skimmed over the questions as she quickly recalculated. After a second round of tallying, she tossed the magazine on the table and frowned. Then, slowly, a small smile began to spread across her face. Without another thought, she placed her cup on the table and headed towards the side door, stopping only long enough to grab her jacket from the closet.

Moments later, with fierce determination in her eyes, Lorelai dragged a rickety ladder out of the garage and across the front lawn. The vibration of the ladder against the cool morning ground sent tingles up her arms, but she refused to let it distract her from her goal. Reaching her destination, she yanked the ladder up to a standing position, leaned it against the house, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Smiling proudly, she headed back towards the garage. Once inside, her eyes scanned the perimeter for the necessary tools. It occurred to her that she wasn't entirely sure what those necessary tools were, but she figured she'd know them when she saw them. Her eyes fell on Rory's old bicycle, a lawnmower, a broken shovel... none of which would be very helpful at the moment. She had almost circled the whole area when she noticed a bag of unopened planter's dirt, a pair of unused gardener's gloves – complete with the ever-important floral pattern, and one of those scary gardening tools that probably had no purpose in life except to serve as a conveniently-placed prop in low-budget, horticultural horror films. Silently thanking Rory for her brief flirtation with gardening, Lorelai snatched up the gloves and pulled them over her hands. Then, wielding the pick, she headed back towards the ladder. When she reached it, she didn't give herself time to second-guess her decision but instead started immediately up the rungs. 

Once at the top, she carefully repositioned herself so she had a good angle and forcefully shoved the head of the garden pick into the gutter. As soon as the pick hit its mark, huge globs of black gutter sludge rained up towards Lorelai, splattering against her jacket and face. Surprised, she jerked back, causing the ladder to sway precariously. As her life passed before her eyes, instinct kicked in, and her body hurled itself forward towards the support of the house – her left hand scraping painfully against the edge of the gutter as she struggled to grab on.

Her heart racing and her breath coming out in erratic bursts, Lorelai clung to the side of the house in a state of shock. After a moment, she nervously shifted just enough to peer over her shoulder at the ground below. Too afraid to move, she did the only thing she could think of. "RORY!!!!!!!!"

***

"So, are you gonna tell me what you were doing up there?" Rory asked as she walked into the kitchen, holding a spray bottle of disinfectant and a gauze bandage.

"Re-enacting a scene from 'The Boy Who Could Fly'."

"Suffering from a flesh wound, and she's still doing stand-up."

"How do you know I'm joking?" Lorelai asked. "It's common knowledge that 'The Boy Who Could Fly' is a cinematic masterpiece. Is it really so farfetched that I … ow… ow… OW! Hey! Hand there!" Lorelai exclaimed, as Rory gently rubbed some of the cleanser across her palm. 

"I'm being as gentle as I can."

"Well, could you try channeling Ben instead because Gentle Rory is not so gentle? What's in that bottle? Lemon juice?"

"You do realize that I was sleeping ten minutes ago, don't you?" 

"You do realize that I nearly died ten minutes ago, don't you?" Lorelai retorted.

"You didn't nearly die."

"You could've been an orphan."

"Actually, I'd only be motherless," Rory pointed out. "I'd still have Dad."

"Wow! I'm writing you out of my will."

"You didn't nearly die," Rory repeated. "You definitely embarrassed yourself in front of the whole neighborhood, but you didn't nearly die."

"I think I'm gonna sue."

"Who?"

"The magazine that made me believe that cleaning the gutters was good for me."

"What were you reading? 'Better Homes and Gardens'?" Rory asked, as she tied the gauze bandage around her mother's hand.

Lorelai glanced up at her daughter and frowned. "No, not exactly."

"Martha Stewart Living?"

"Are you sure this isn't too tight?" Lorelai asked, bending her fingers around the bandage.

"You said you needed a tourniquet," Rory smiled.

"Loosen it."

"No."

"Loosen it, Rory, or I'll hold you personally responsible when my hand is amputated."

"You're right-handed anyway."

"Remind me to wake up someone else next time I'm at death's door."

"Will do," Rory agreed, heading towards the hallway. "I'm going to take a shower, so we can get to Luke's in time for breakfast."

"You aren't going to loosen this?" Lorelai asked, holding up her injured hand.

"Nope."

"My fingers are turning blue."

"They are not."

"They're starting to tingle."

"Mom…"

"No, wait, now they're numb. I can't feel my fingers. I do still have fingers, don't I?"

"If I loosen it, will you promise to let me go take a shower?"

"I promise."

"Fine," Rory agreed. "Come here."

"Thank you!" Lorelai said gratefully, as she hurried over to her daughter.

As Rory began to undo the bandage, Lorelai looked at her thoughtfully.

Feeling her mother's eyes on her, Rory glanced up. "What?"

"Did you know we have a lawnmower?"

***

"God, I'm starving," Lorelai said, as she took off her coat and collapsed on the diner chair.  "Must be from the loss of blood."

"Yes, that must be it," Rory teased.

"I'm getting pancakes with a side of pancakes," Lorelai grinned, scanning the diner. "Where's Luke?"

"I don't know. Storage room?"

"Oh no!" Lorelai complained, glimpsing Caesar out of the corner of her eye.

"Caesar's cooking," Rory moaned unhappily.

"Why is Caesar cooking?" Lorelai asked.

"I don't know."

"That's bad."

"His pancakes stink," Rory moped.

"They do stink," Lorelai agreed.

"Well, what do we do?  Resort to doughnuts?"

"Wait here," Lorelai said confidently, before sneaking over to the stairway leading to Luke's apartment.

***

Reaching the upper floor, Lorelai knocked on the apartment door. "Hey, Luke, are you in there?"

The sound of falling boxes and Luke exclaiming "Ow" echoed out into the hallway.

"Luke, are you okay?"

"Stupid box! Stupid lamp!" Luke shouted.

"Hey, Luke, are you being attacked by your possessions again?"

Lorelai had barely asked her question when the door opened, and Luke appeared in front of her, a white, knee sock on his shoulder.

"Hi," she said casually.

"Hi."

"Whatcha doing?"

"I'm looking for my supply ledger," Luke stated.

"Is it going well?"

"It's going fine."

"You have a sock on your shoulder," she said, gesturing towards it. "Is it helping you look?"

"What are you doing up here?"

"Rory and I are starving. We need you to cook us breakfast," she explained as she followed him into the apartment and looked around. "Oh my God!" 

"Caesar can make you breakfast."

"What happened to this place?"

"Nothing."

"This is what I always pictured the inside of my head to look like," Lorelai said, walking further into the apartment and looking at the complete and utter chaos that surrounded her.

"See if you can find a brown leather ledger," Luke told her.

"I've never seen so much stuff. It looks like a white trash Hearst Castle in here."

"On second thought, I'll find it myself."

"Where'd all this come from?"

"Jess. Liz shipped the rest of his stuff last week. He finally unpacked."

"Well, he did a very nice job."

"I know it's crazy now," Luke admitted, "but I just have to get it all organized, figure out where to put everything, buy another dresser, a portable wardrobe, some storage bins."

"Can of gasoline, box of matches," Lorelai quipped.

"Did I mention that Caesar can cook you breakfast?"

"But he doesn't make the good fluffy pancakes like you do," Lorelai complained.

"Then order eggs." 

"No!" Lorelai exclaimed, holding up her injured hand. "See, I had a near-death experience today."

"Really?"

"Yes. I almost fell off the roof of my house trying to clean the rain gutters, so I have to have pancakes. Please? I'll help you shower when I become a superhero," she bargained.

Before Luke had time to respond, the bathroom door opened, drawing his and Lorelai's attention. 

"You've been in there for two hours," Luke exclaimed at Jess as the teenager picked his way through the household rubble towards the apartment door.

"Yeah, well, my hair just ain't bouncin' and behavin' today," Jess retorted.

"There are other people living here too, you know."

"Huh. Learn something new everyday," Jess answered as he continued across the room, grabbed his jacket and some books, and walked out the door.

"Well, his people skills are really improving," Lorelai said after Jess was gone.

"Go downstairs," Luke gently ordered. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"How long is that?" Lorelai asked, glancing around the room.

"I don't know," Luke said, still rummaging through Jess's stuff, looking for his ledger.

"An estimate," Lorelai continued, her eyes narrowing as they fell on an object among Jess's things.

"I don't know," Luke repeated.

"Ballpark figure," Lorelai mumbled distractedly, not even listening for his answer but instead focusing her full attention on the small, plastic, red triangle lying on top of a pile of Jess's books. Curious, she walked closer and picked it up, staring at the number 9 etched into its surface. She slowly ran her fingers across the number.

"Lorelai," Luke said, looking up at her from the box he was searching. "Lorelai," he repeated more loudly, his voice cutting its way through the fog clouding her brain.

"Yeah," she said absentmindedly.

"What is that?"

"What's what?" she asked, finally looking up at him.

"That," he repeated, walking towards her and gesturing at the object in her hand.

"Oh, it's one of those table numbers they have at pizza places. I stole one of these once."

"Yeah, me too," Luke remarked, smiling at her. "Lucky number 7."

"Small world. I stole a 7 too," Lorelai said, smiling back at him.

"You did?"

"Well, I stole a few other numbers too, but one of them was a seven."

"Ah," Luke chuckled. "Right."

"Anyway, it just reminded me," Lorelai finished. 

Luke nodded, accepting her story, and turned to look through another pile of belongings. 

Meanwhile, Lorelai bent down and set the number on top of the pile of books again. As she moved to stand back up, however, she noticed a thin band of soft leather peeking out like a bookmark from between the pages of one of Jess's books. It looked strangely familiar, and she reached out to tug it from its location for a closer look, but Luke's voice interrupted her.

"A-ha!" he exclaimed, pulling his ledger from among the debris. "Found it."

Lorelai glanced over at him. "What?"

"The ledger," he said, waving it in the air.

"Ah, right; the ledger," Lorelai nodded, focusing her attention on him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. "Were you serious about that whole roof thing?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lorelai said, shaking herself back to the present. "l mean, yes, I really did nearly plummet to my death this morning, but it's nothing a plate of good fluffy pancakes won't cure," she said, flashing him a hopeful smile.

"All right, come on," he consented, fighting a smile of his own.

"Thank you!" Lorelai said happily, darting around the boxes towards the door… the mysterious object momentarily forgotten.

***

Drumming her fingers on the table, Rory waited for her mom to reappear from upstairs, preferably with Luke in tow. She glanced over her shoulder at the empty staircase and sighed. Nothing. Bored, she looked around the room, observing the people at the other tables.

"Hey," a voice whispered right next to Rory's ear, causing her to jump in surprise. Looking over her shoulder at the uninvited guest, Rory was met with a satisfied smirk. 

"How do you do that?" she asked incredulously. "Not two seconds ago, I looked at that staircase, and there was nobody there."

"You make it too easy," Jess pointed out as he slid into a chair beside her. "You pay _absolutely_ no attention to your surroundings."

"I do too pay attention! For example, see over there," she said, pointing at a table. "That old couple is casing the joint."

"Huh. You don't say." Jess remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup," Rory nodded. "To the casual observer, they look relatively harmless, but anyone who's seen 'Dirty Dancing' knows that the elderly are not to be trusted."

"But the town delinquent sitting right next to you?"

"Completely harmless," Rory said, appraising him. "You don't even register on the trouble radar."

"Huh. You might want to get that radar checked out. It doesn't seem to be up to Stars Hollow code."

"I'm telling you; you better keep an eye on that couple," she admonished.

"I'll hang posters after lunch."

"Good," Rory smiled. "My job here is done."

"You're cracked," Jess chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

Rory's grin grew even wider at the sound of his laugh. Her eyes trailed over his face, focusing on the rare smile that was curving his lips. After a moment, she shifted her gaze upwards, and her eyes locked with his. The smile fading from his face, Jess quickly looked away, and Rory felt a wave of disappointment rush over her. She shifted uncomfortably. "So," she said, fumbling for a topic. "What are those?"

Jess glanced at her and then at the pile of books he'd set on the table. "Books," he said simply.

"Oh," Rory said, nodding.

Jess looked back up at her again and saw the telltale crinkle in her forehead that

he'd come to recognize meant she was upset but trying not to show it. He sighed. "When I left New York, I grabbed some books, but, once I got here, I decided I wanted to read the ones I'd left behind instead."

Rory nodded knowingly. "Whenever my mom and I travel, I lose all desire to read the books I have with me. I always want the ones I decided not to bring at the last minute."

"Exactly. So I went to the library and got them. But Liz sent my stuff this week so…"

"So that means you're here for good," Rory interjected.

Jess shrugged unhappily. "I guess."

"Well, at least you have all of your books now," Rory offered. "And Stars Hollow isn't so bad, right?"

Without thinking, Jess looked at her in disbelief. "Yeah, right," he mumbled.

Hurt, Rory fixed her eyes on the table and fidgeted with her sleeve. Jess watched her for a second, trying to come up with something to say. Then, deciding he didn't owe her an explanation, he shifted his eyes to look at the table as well. After a brief, uncomfortable silence, Luke and Lorelai emerged from upstairs.

"Guess what, Ro--!" Lorelai began enthusiastically, stopping short when she saw Jess at the table.

"I was just leaving," Jess said, taking Lorelai's blatant pause as a perfect opportunity for escape. He stood up and pulled on his jacket. Grabbing his books from the table, he glanced quickly at Rory. She was looking at him hopefully, searching for any sign that he didn't mean what he'd implied earlier; he broke the connection without offering her anything, glanced at Luke and Lorelai again, and walked out the door.

***

"Two rocky road hot fudge sundaes and two cans of whipped cream," Rory ordered at the ice cream parlor counter later that night. Then, remembering what Lorelai had said right before Rory had left her with Luke and his micro-television, Rory added quickly, "Oh, and a ton of maraschino cherries, please."

 "I'm sorry, Rory. I can't do that," Kirk said in a grave tone, sending her a sympathetic smile.

"What do you mean, Kirk? I see a gallon of rocky road ice cream right there," Rory argued, pointing to its location in the glass case below the counter.

"You can have the rocky road, but unless you define 'a ton'," he finger-quoted, "of maraschino cherries differently than I do, I can't complete your order."

"We always get extra cherries."

"I find that hard to believe," Kirk disagreed. "Giving extra maraschino cherries to a customer is in direct violation of Section 4.71 of the employee handbook and would result in immediate termination."

"What are you talking about?" Rory asked.

"During my lunch break at the employee training session, I committed the whole manual to memory, and it clearly states in Section 4.71 that each customer should be given exactly two maraschino cherries. Not one and not three. _Exactly_ two. I'm surprised you'd even ask for more. After all, most places only provide the customer with one maraschino cherry. We're quite generous in offering two. We even waive the cost of the second cherry in the posted price."

"We _always_ get extra cherries," Rory repeated.

"What's the occasion?"

"Movie night with my mom."

"Lorelai's here?" Kirk asked, looking around the shop nervously.

"No, she's at Luke's."

Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. "In that case, sorry, only two cherries. Not a cherry more. Not a cherry less."

"What happens if a customer doesn't like maraschino cherries?" Rory asked, searching for a loophole.

"They still get exactly 2 maraschino cherries."

"Okay, but what if they're allergic to the cherries?"

"Two cherries," Kirk said calmly. "Exactly two."__

"So there's no addendum to the cherry clause that stipulates what will happen if a customer who has a severe allergic reaction to cherries orders a sundae?"

"According to Section 6.45 of the employee handbook, if they're allergic to cherries, they should order a cone."

"Aren't you worried about discrimination lawsuits?" Rory asked.

"I don't write the rules, Rory. I just follow them."

"Fine. Exactly how much does a maraschino cherry go for these days?"

"According to Section 9.12 of the employee handbook, one maraschino cherry costs exactly .056 of a cent," Kirk replied.

"Is there anything anywhere in the employee handbook that says a customer can't just buy additional cherries?"

Kirk paused. "Well, no, I suppose there isn't."

"In that case," Rory finished, pulling money out of her pocket. "Here are two extra dollars. I'd like two rocky road hot fudge sundaes, two cans of whipped cream, and a _ton_ of maraschino cherries."

"It'll be just a minute," Kirk replied, as he pulled out a calculator and began mumbling to himself. "Two dollars divided by .056 cents equals…"

***

Sundaes and whipped cream now in hand, Rory hurried across the street towards Luke's. Shifting the food to one hand, she pulled open the diner door and walked inside.

"Hey Luke," she said happily as she reached around to shut the door.

"Rory, perfect, get her out of here," Luke said, annoyed. "Go," he directed at Lorelai.

"But, uh, okay," Lorelai stammered. "Fine. I'm leaving. Think about what I said." She got up from the chair and headed towards the door.

"Oh, hey," Luke called, turning around in his chair. "Did you ever hire anybody to do that work for you?"

"What?" Lorelai asked.

"The rain gutters."

"Oh, no, not yet. Are you offering?" she smiled.

"No, actually, I was thinking about Jess."

"Uh, Jess?" Lorelai asked, thinking back to what had been going on in recent weeks and instantly not liking the idea.

"Yeah, he's always looking for a little extra cash. He doesn't make that much here, and, you know, I hate to think of where else he might try to get it, so…"

"Huh," Lorelai nodded.

"I mean, you don't have to pay him the same as you would someone else, and you save a little, he keeps busy."

Rory nodded in agreement. It seemed like a good plan.

"Yeah, well, maybe," Lorelai hedged. "Um, I actually have to check with a couple of people I'm supposed to hear from…"

Rory looked at her mother doubtfully, knowing a lie when she heard one.

"But if they can't do it," Lorelai finished. "Then sure."

"Great," Luke accepted. "Just let me know."

"I will," Lorelai agreed, pulling open the door. "Bye."

***

Now safely outside Luke's, Rory turned to her mother. "So who are all these people you asked to clean out the gutters?"

"Oh, well, you know," Lorelai said, apparently by way of explanation.

"I do?" Rory asked skeptically.

"Sh—yeah."

"Remind me."

"Okay, well, there's Sid," Lorelai began hesitantly.

"Oh, Sid, right," Rory exclaimed, eyeing her mother suspiciously.

"And then there's… Lou."

"Yeah, a good man, Lou."

"Oh, and also Moose. That is, if Doris will let him out of the house again, you know, after that incident at Chicky's bachelor party," she rambled, pretending not to notice that her daughter had stopped walking.

"I thought you said you were gonna give Jess a chance," Rory reminded her.

Lorelai sighed and walked back towards Rory. "I am."

"Then why don't you hire him?"

Lorelai paused, as a million reasons flew through her mind. _Because he's trouble. Because he has a gigantic crush on you. Because all indications suggest that his crush is not unrequited. Because he's only going to hurt you. Because I just found out this morning that you still aren't telling me the whole truth. Because every time he opens his mouth, I want to take a muzzle and…  _"Because there's… Dean," she blurted out instead.

"What?" Rory asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah," Lorelai nodded, going with it. "Dean could clean our gutters."

"Oh," Rory said quietly.

"I think it's a great idea!" Lorelai exclaimed, beginning to walk again. 

"But Dean's my boyfriend," Rory reminded her.

"All the more reason!"

"We can't make Dean clean our gutters," Rory disagreed as they crossed the street.

"Are you kidding me? He'll jump at the chance. He loves you; he loves helping me. It's a win-win situation."

"Mom…"

"And he's tall," Lorelai continued.

"Yes, Dean _is_ tall, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, in case you've forgotten, our ladder tried to kill me this morning."

"The jury's still out on that, but that has been your story, yes."

"Well, see, if Dean cleans the gutters, we won't have to worry about our homicidal ladder killing him because he's so tall, he won't need it."

"You do realize you're being ridiculous now, don't you?"

"All right, so he'll probably need a step stool," Lorelai conceded, causing Rory to look at her mother and shake her head.

"You belittle him, and yet you still expect him to do manual labor at your beckoning."

"Blame my mom's genetics for that one," Lorelai joked.

"Dean should _not_ have to clean our gutters."

"Okay, maybe not. But how do you think he'd feel if we asked Jess to clean the gutters and not him?" Lorelai asked, looking at her daughter.

Rory glanced at her mother and sighed. "Okay, you win," she reluctantly conceded.

"See, it's a good idea," Lorelai said, intertwining her arm with Rory's. "This way, we get our gutters cleaned, and Dean knows that we appreciate him."

"I think you're the only person I know who could turn an offer to clean our gutters into a symbol of our appreciation."

"I have many talents," Lorelai agreed, grinning.

"You're actually gonna ask Dean to clean our gutters?"

"Well, actually, _you're_ going to ask Dean to clean our gutters. Coming from me, it'd seem like I view him as my errand boy or something."

"You do view him as your errand boy."

"Yes, but he doesn't need to know that."

***

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Jess complained bright and early the next morning.

"Jess, look around," Luke said as he put a red circle around an ad in the paper. 

"We're living in Lorelai's head."

"What on earth are you talking about?" 

"Nevermind. Put on your jacket."

"You do realize you could get the crappiest apartment Stars Hollow has to offer, and I wouldn't care, don't you?"

"You're coming with. End of story."

"I have things to do."

"Complaining will get you nowhere."

"Fine. How about sarcasm? Where will that get me?" 

"How about Peach?" Luke asked, ignoring him. "Do you know anything about Peach?"

"It's a color and a fruit. There, I helped. Can I go now?"

"I was talking about Peach Street," Luke explained.

"You've lived here your entire life, and you're asking _me_ about Peach Street?" Jess asked in disbelief.

"Plum, it is," Luke said, circling the last ad and standing up. "Where's your jacket?" he asked, looking at his nephew.

"Huh, I dunno. Guess I can't go. Wouldn't want to catch a chill."

"I'm sure I have a flannel shirt you can borrow," Luke told him, rummaging through his dresser. "It'll keep you nice and toasty."

"Wow, look over there," Jess said, pointing at his jacket. "Guess it wasn't lost after all."

"Great. Let's go."

"Fine," Jess mumbled, accepting defeat. "The sooner we go, the sooner I can sneak out a back entrance."

***

"As you can see, this apartment is one of our two bedroom/two bath models," the rental consultant explained. "It comes with hardwood flooring in the entry way and a ceiling fan in each room."

"Can the blades support the weight of a human body?" Jess asked.

"Excuse me?" the woman inquired, looking at Jess curiously.

"Ignore him. He forgot to take his happy pills today," Luke said, shooting Jess a look. "You were saying…"

"Um, right," she began again, looking with concern at Jess. "Why don't we just go take a look at the apartment and see what you two think?"

"Sounds great," Luke agreed.

"If you have some rope, I can test it out while we're there," Jess offered.

***

"Hey, Jess," Luke said as they walked down the street towards another apartment complex. "Why don't we play a nice game of 'Who Can Be the Quietest?' when we get to this next place?"

"As long as the rental consultant has to play too," Jess quipped.

"Come on. They're just doing their jobs."

"Fine, but why do they insist on pointing out every room on their little maps? Do they think we can't figure it out? I've never understood that."

"To be honest, me either," Luke admitted.

"The last place even had the names of the rooms written _on the map_, and she still insisted on telling us what each room was! Don't blame me if I make fun of them; they practically beg for it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Luke sighed.

***

"Hey Mom!" Rory called as she entered the house. "Is Dean here yet?"

"Come here, come here, come here," Lorelai called excitedly.

"I'm here," Rory said, jogging into the living room. "What's the matter?"

"Sit, sit, sit," Lorelai ordered while she fiddled with a piece of equipment on the coffee table. "Okay, that should do it."

"Do what?"

"Wait."

"What are we waiting for?" Rory asked.

"Patience, grasshopper."

"Hey, anybody home?" Dean called, pushing open the front door.

"Ah! Dean! Hurry!" Lorelai shouted.

"What?" Dean asked as he entered the living room.

"Hurry, hurry. Sit," Lorelai demanded.

Dean quickly sat beside Rory on the couch. "Hey," he greeted, leaning down to give her a small kiss on the lips.

"Hey."

"What are we waiting for?" he whispered.

"I have no idea," Rory answered.

"Ready, and – " Lorelai said. 

_Oink! Oink! Oink!_

"The clock is grunting," Rory observed in amusement.

"This, my friends," Lorelai explained after turning off the alarm, "is a state of the art CD/clock radio that enables you to wake up to the barnyard animal of your choice."

"That is great!" Rory exclaimed.

"It's definitely unique," Dean agreed.

"I have selected the perky piggies. You might choose the cheery chickens or the goofy goats."

"That is the closest to a farm that I ever wanna get," Rory declared.

"Amen, sister friend. Hey Dean," Lorelai said, belatedly greeting her daughter's boyfriend.

"Hey."

"Talk about good timing."

"Well, I never like to miss a good barn-raising," Dean joked.

"And, with those historic words, your boyfriend is a native at last."

"I never stopped dreaming," Rory crooned.

"So, Dean, thanks for agreeing to clean the gutters. We really appreciate it."

"It's no problem. I'm happy to help."

"Not as happy as we are to have your help. So, before Rory got home, I put everything on the porch. Gloves and buckets. I wasn't really sure what you'd need but…"

"That sounds about right," Dean assured her.

"Okay, great. I suggest spending as little time with the ladder as possible though; it seems to have an attitude problem."

"Rory already warned me," Dean said, smiling at his girlfriend.

"She's good like that. Oh, and there's some of that new Coke with lemon in the fridge if you get thirsty. Feel free to help yourself."

"Okay, thanks."

"All right, well, I'm just going to play with my new toy here. Thanks again for doing this."

"It's no problem. Really," Dean said. "I guess I'll go get started."

"I'll come with you," Rory said, following him out of the living room while trying to ignore the self-satisfied smile on her mother's face.

***

A short while later, Dean climbed down the ladder and set a full bucket of gutter sludge on the ground. Brushing some loose strands of hair out of his eyes, he looked over at his girlfriend. Rory smiled at him from her position on top of the hood of the jeep and held out her can of soda. He smiled gratefully and strolled over to her, taking the can out of her hand and gulping down several large mouthfuls.

"This stuff isn't bad," he commented, looking down at the can.

"Careful! That's how they pull you in," Rory warned, squinting up at him through the morning sun.

"Addictive?"

"Mom and I are about two cans away from a trip to Betty Ford."

"Uh-oh."

"Mom's convinced it's the Coca-Cola-cocaine controversy all over again."

"Makes sense," Dean nodded, smiling.

"Only this time," Rory continued. "Instead of cocaine, she swears she can taste the tiniest hint of coffee."

"You know, now that you mention it…"

"Oh boy! Betty Ford, here we come," Rory said, shaking her head sadly.

"You could always go cold turkey," Dean suggested.

"But we miss Betty," Rory pouted. "We haven't seen her since the summer we discovered Sno-Caps."

"Or addiction is good too," Dean finished, handing his girlfriend the can of soda before moving to lean against the jeep beside her.

Rory smiled and took a sip. As she lowered the can, she glanced quickly at her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye. Then, slyly, she looked down at her watch. Trying not to think about the minutes ticking by, she pulled her sleeve down over her wrist. 

"You don't have to keep me company, you know."

"I know," Rory said. "But I want to."

"You're bored," Dean stated.

"I'm not bored," Rory disagreed, her watch feeling heavy on her wrist. "This is very exciting."

"It is?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Well, it's not often that a girl gets to watch her boyfriend do something… like this…" Rory said weakly. "It's very…." She paused, searching for an appropriate word.

"Boring," Dean filled in.

"Manly," she blurted out.

"Manly?"

"Sure. There are… ladders and… there's… climbing… and life endangerment. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that's Webster's definition of manly."

"But I'm spending most of the time at the top of the ladder, in one reasonably safe position, scooping gunk out of a gutter," Dean pointed out.

"And it's very exciting," Rory finished, trying to sound genuine. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"There isn't?"

"Nope."

"Nowhere else?"

"Nowhere else," Rory said, shaking her head for added emphasis.

"What about the book sale?"

"What book sale?" Rory replied, feigning ignorance.

"The book sale you've been looking forward to all week."

"Oh, is that today?"

"You should go."

"Nope, I'm fine right where I am."

"You're telling me you don't want to go to the book sale? The book sale you've been talking about for weeks now?"

"You've seen one book sale, you've seen 'em all."

"I know you want to go, Rory. You've been checking your watch every other minute for the last hour."

"Okay, fine," Rory reluctantly admitted. "It would be nice to stop by the book sale at _some_ point, but it'll be there all day. We can go when you're done."

"I thought you said all the good books go in the first five hours."

"Well, then get back to work," Rory said, shooing him with her hand.

"Rory, I've been cleaning these for an hour, and I've barely made a dent."

"Pish-posh! You just haven't entered your zone yet."

"I'm not going to let you miss your book sale just so you can sit here and watch me clean a gutter."

"But…" Rory protested.

"Go to the book sale."

"You shouldn't even be cleaning our gutters," Rory sighed. "I won't just leave."

"I don't mind. You know books aren't really my thing."

"So I'm supposed to go have fun at a book sale while you're here at _my _house, up to your elbows in toxic waste?" 

"Yep," Dean said simply.

"I'm not going," Rory argued. "If you have to spend your Saturday doing this, then I'm going to keep you company. There'll be another book sale."

"They only have the book sale once a year."

"See, it's just around the corner."

"Rory…"

"I already have enough books," Rory said, frowning slightly.

"If you say so," Dean answered, walking over to dump the full bucket of sludge into a garbage bag.

"They probably don't have any first editions this year anyway," Rory continued.

"Probably not," Dean agreed.

"And besides, who needs a first edition anyway? They're a dime a dozen."

"If that," he replied, fighting a grin as he walked back over to the jeep.

"It's not like the world will end if I miss one Stars Hollow book sale."

Dean smiled and leaned forward, resting his hands against the hood of the jeep on either side of her waist. "I have an idea," he said. "How about you go to the book sale while I finish the gutters? Then, when I'm done, we'll go see a 'Lord of the Rings' matinee together. That way, we both get to do something fun."

Rory immediately shook her head. "That won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because then I'll get to do two fun things. It'd be like I was getting rewarded for ditching you while you cleaned our gutters."

"What if I make you pay for the movie?"

"Not good enough."

"And popcorn…"

"Oh, great! I get popcorn too? Why don't you just throw me a party!"

"Okay, no popcorn."

"But you should get popcorn," Rory said sadly. "You deserve popcorn."

"Rory, this is crazy. You _want_ to go to the book sale. I _want_ you to go to the book sale."

Rory sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll go to the book sale, but then you and I are going to the movies, and I'm buying you popcorn and soda and Goobers and Sour Patch Kids and Sno-Caps and anythi…."

"Deal," Dean agreed, cutting off her tirade by pressing his lips gently against hers.

After a moment, he pulled away and smiled.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Rory asked.

"I'm positive."

"Okay," Rory sighed. "But I'm not going to be gone very long, so you better hurry. Cut corners if you have to." 

"I'll do my best," Dean assured her as he moved aside so she could hop down from the jeep. 

"And if my mom mentions anything about waxing the jeep…"

"I'll handle it."

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise," Rory said, giving him one last quick kiss before heading inside to tell her mother about the change of plans.

***

"The next apartment is on Plum," Luke announced, looking up from the folded newspaper he held in his hand.

"Are you serious? Haven't we seen enough?"

"Until we find an apartment we can agree on, no."

"This is ridiculous," Jess muttered.

"I heard that," Luke said out of the side of his mouth as they continued towards Plum Street.

Jess shot Luke a look of complete annoyance but said nothing.

Luke glanced at his nephew and saw that all-too-familiar look on his face. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, he turned to Jess and folded his arms over his chest.  "Okay," he said patiently. "Go ahead."

"What?" Jess asked, confused.

"I'm sensing you're about to launch into one of your rambling, sarcastic hissy fits," Luke calmly explained. "Just figured I'd stop now and let you get it out of your system. So, go ahead. I'm ready."

"You're annoying as hell, you know that?" Jess asked.

"So I've been told," Luke replied. "Now, go."

"Fine. Do you realize we've been doing this for almost _three_ hours?"

"Really? Amazing!" Luke mocked nearly inaudibly under his breath.

"We've seen pink apartments and apartments with two full-size refrigerators and apartments with cats and dogs and canaries that squawk 'Polly want a Triscuit!' over and over and over again," Jess ranted, gesturing angrily. "Now a person might think, 'Canary? Canaries don't squawk!' But in Stars Hollow, the land of nightmares come true, canaries squawk. And_ Triscuit_, for God's sake!?! Who even eats those? Oh, and then, there was the apartment with the 70s shag carpeting that looked like it played an important role in the potty training of a dozen children, if not more. And let's not forget my favorite, the apartment with the blinding, fluorescent floral wallpaper in every… single… room," he fumed, jerking his arm to punctuate each word, before pausing to take a breath.

"Did you just say 'potty'?" Luke asked, grinning. 

"Why don't we just find an apartment with nice, padded walls? Given the amount of insanity in this town, it shouldn't be hard to find."

"Are you done?"

"Can you honestly say you think we're going to find an apartment in this town?"

"Well," Luke said calmly. "So far, it seems unlikely, but we still have Plum and Peach…"

"No way!" Jess interrupted. "I've been participating in this farce for almost three hours, and for the past two hours, I've even managed to do so seriously. If you want a new apartment, you can look alone." 

"You don't want to move?"

"I don't care."

"You're happy with no privacy?"

"I've got plenty of privacy."

"Yeah, because I'm sitting downstairs, in the dark, watching a two-inch tv."

"Hey, you're the one with the problem, you make the choice."

"Fine, floral wallpaper, it is," Luke declared.

"Great! Go sign the lease! See you later," Jess said, heading in the opposite direction.

"I'm not kidding!" Luke called after him. "Jess! I hear that canary's for sale!" 

Jess kept walking. 

"Jess!" he tried again, watching in bewilderment as his nephew rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. He waited a moment, entertaining the crazy thought that Jess might come back, then, sighing, he headed towards Plum Street.

***

Jess wandered through town towards the book sale he and Luke had passed earlier that morning on their way to Cantaloupe Court or whatever ridiculous fruit-named street it'd been. "Watermelon Way?" he thought to himself. "Grapefruit Grove? Banana Boulevard?" Giving up, he shook his head and turned towards the library where the tables and racks of books were set up. There were quite a few people milling about – picking up books and reading their descriptions, deliberating over whether to buy or pass. He had to weave his way around several browsers in his efforts to get to the tables of classic novels. However, once he arrived at his destination and started reading the spines of the rows and rows of books in front of him, everything else melted away.

Awhile later, Jess was deeply engrossed in Franz Kafka's short story, "The Judgment", when he felt someone approaching him. After years of living in New York, even the most interesting book couldn't deactivate his finely honed skills of self-protection. His eyes remained on the page, but his mind was no longer focused on the words. As the person drew closer, a faint but familiar perfume wafted over him, and he relaxed. Smirking, he waited until she was right where he wanted her, and then he quickly turned around and leaned nonchalantly against the table. "Hey."

Rory's mouth was half-open to say something when he spoke. The devilish glint in her eyes quickly disappeared, and she frowned. Then, recovering quickly from her botched attempt at startling him, she held up a book. 

"Inherit the Wind," Jess read aloud.

"Seventy-five cents," Rory announced proudly. "Beat that!"

Jess held up a like-new copy of Oscar Wilde's collected works. "Fifty cents."

"Seriously?" she asked, frowning. "How did I miss that?"

"It was buried under a pile of Jane Austen."

"That explains it," Rory accepted.

"I almost skipped right over it too," Jess assured her.

"I should've looked though. I've obviously gotten lax over the years."

"Well, you never had competition before."

"It _is_ true that the majority of Stars Hollow pours over the romance tables," Rory agreed, glancing in the direction of the romance novel section.

Jess looked over as well and saw two women struggling over a copy of Danielle Steele. "Is that Miss Patty?"

"Her brawls over Danielle Steele are one of the book fundraisers' traditions."

"Huh. So," he said, turning back to Rory. "What else did you find?"

"Well, I found this copy of Rilke's _Letters to a Young Poet_ – which I already have, but in hardback," she began, holding up the slim volume. "This is a paperback – fits perfectly in a coat pocket, and it's only a dollar. I'm torn. Opinions?"

Jess reached out and took the book from her hand. Rory began to protest as he flipped easily to a desired page and began to read out loud. "But I can tell you that even later on, one moves through these books, again and again, with the same astonishment and that they lose none of their wonderful power and relinquish none of the overwhelming enchantment that they had the first time one read them. One just comes to enjoy them more and more, becomes more and more grateful, and somehow better and simpler in one's vision, deeper in one's faith, happier and greater in the way one lives."

Rory smiled. "So you're saying I should get it?" she asked, taking the book from Jess's hand before he could answer and setting it on her pile.

"Rilke seems to want it that way."

"How many times have you read that?"

"A few," he answered, smirking.

"Of course."

"So is that all you found?" Jess asked, looking skeptically at the small pile of books in her hands.

"This round," Rory smiled. "That's me over there," she finished, pointing at three piles of books tucked over beside the library stairs.

"Huh. How do you plan on carrying those home?" Jess asked.

"Good thing I found you," Rory replied before moving to walk to another table.

"What about Dean?" Jess asked, walking beside her.

"He's not here."

"Really? I'm surprised. I figured he would've heard the words 'book sale' and rushed on over."

"Dean reads."

"What? Comic books?"

"No."

"'Mad' magazine?"

"Very funny," Rory said, frowning.

"Okay. _War and Peace_?"

"Would you stop?"

"You should get him something."

"What?" Rory asked, looking at Jess.

"A book. Since he reads. How about this one?" Jess said, holding up _Go, Go, Go!_

"That's the children's table."

"But I bet Dean would love a little 'Dick and Jane'."

"I'm leaving now."

"Too hard? Okay, how about this?" Jess asked, holding up _Good-night, Moon_. "It's a classic with very few words."

"Jess…"

"_Where's Waldo_?" Jess offered, holding up the over-sized book.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with _Where's__ Waldo?_"! Rory argued.

"You know, actually, if you take off the glasses and the hat, Dean kind of looks like Waldo," Jess said, studying the back cover of the book.

"He does not!" Rory disagreed, yanking the book from Jess's hand.

Jess watched as she looked at the picture. Slowly, a small smile spread across her face. "See, I told you," he teased.

Rory fought the smile away and looked firmly at Jess. "_Where's Waldo?_ is a very fun book."

"If you say so," Jess smirked.

"In fact, I think I'll get it," she stated, adding it to her pile before walking away from the table.

"I knew you'd find something he'd like," Jess joked, following her around tables as she headed towards the library steps to add the books to her pile.

Rory ignored him and kept walking towards the stairs. When she reached them, she bent down to add the books to her stack. Then, standing back up, she looked around and realized Jess was nowhere in sight. She searched the tables a little more thoroughly and, still not finding him, tried to convince herself she didn't care. But soon, she grew curious and headed off in search of him.

***

"Dean?" Lorelai called up towards the roof. "Hey, Dean!"

Dean stopped cleaning the gutter and looked down at her. "Hey."

"How's it going up there?"

"Uh, it's going."

"That bad, huh?"

"I've seen worse," he assured her.

"Yeah? Care to tell me some gutter-cleaning war stories over lunch?"

"I probably shouldn't. Rory and I have plans once I get done so…"

"Rory would want you to eat."

Dean hesitated and looked at the length of gutter he still had left to clean.

"I think she'll be more upset if you pass out from starvation," Lorelai called. "No girl wants to find her boyfriend, dead, on the front lawn."

"You may be right," Dean agreed, smiling.

"I'm always right. I'll meet you inside."

Dean nodded and climbed down the ladder. As he walked into the kitchen moments later, the smell of cold Chinese food filled his senses.

"It smells good," he said, walking over to the sink and washing his hands. 

"Rory and I decided to take on the entire chicken column last night," Lorelai explained proudly. "There's garlic chicken, Kung Pao chicken, Szechuan Chicken, chicken in brown sauce with some variety of potentially lethal red pepper mixed in…"

"No chicken and broccoli?" Dean asked, peering into the containers.

"Oh, believe me, if they'd had it, we'd be staring at it right now. We're guessing it had something to do with the broccoli part. Although that wouldn't explain the whole beef and broccoli craze, but anyway, dig in."

Starving, Dean scooped up some food from each of the containers and walked over to the microwave to heat it up. 

"So, how's life treatin' ya?" Lorelai asked, filling her own plate with food.

"Not bad. Basketball's half done, but the team's pretty good this year."

"Wow. There just isn't a season without some sport these days, is there?"

"Uh, I guess not."

"But it keeps you crazy kids busy, so that's good. Now that I think about it, maybe I should've taken up cheerleading in high school… or tennis… or football. That 'Quarterback Princess' movie was really inspiring. Have you seen it?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, don't worry. I'm sure Rory will entertain you with an 'early Helen Hunt' night one of these days."

"I can't wait."

"Hey, some of those films teach real life lessons. For example," Lorelai said, waving her fork in the air. "Don't disobey your drill sergeant father unless there's a cute boy involved."

"I'll try to remember that," Dean said, smiling.

"Good. See, you learned something today. So, what position do you play?"

"In basketball?"

"That is this season's sport of choice."

"Well, actually, it looks like I might be the starting center next game."

"That's great! Congratulations! Pretty impressive for a junior."

"Well, it's not official yet," Dean downplayed.

"Technicalities," Lorelai dismissed. "I bet Rory's really proud."

"Actually, I haven't told her yet."

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know. I guess I haven't really had the chance."

"Yeah," Lorelai said, frowning. "She's been busy lately with school and … everything."

"I know," Dean nodded.

"You better get moving; that game must be comin' up soon. I bet she'll wanna go."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean halfheartedly agreed before taking his plate out of the microwave and sitting down at the table.

Lorelai smiled reassuringly at him and turned to heat up her own lunch. A few seconds later, she glanced back at Dean and sighed.

***

Roaming among the tables, Rory scanned the heads of the fundraiser-goers, looking for Jess. Occasionally, she stood on her tiptoes to get a better view of the area, but she was having little luck tracking him down. Giving up, she walked towards the tables she hadn't visited yet and started sifting through the books. She hadn't been standing there more than a minute when she glanced over at a nearby table and saw Jess crouching down, looking through some books that were tucked underneath.

"Nice disappearing act," she said, standing above him.

He glanced up at her and motioned towards the books beneath the table. "Did you see these?" he asked, his voice animated.

"No," Rory replied, so intrigued by his excitement that she forgot she was annoyed. "What are they?"

"New releases."

"You're kidding!"

"Look for yourself," he said, moving over to make room for her. 

Rory immediately crouched down and scanned the titles. "_Dr. Atkin's New Diet Revolution_," she read aloud. "_The Summons_. These books all came out within the past few months."

"Hence the term, 'new releases'," Jess quipped.

"Do they have price stickers?" Rory asked, assuming they had been placed there accidentally.

Jess picked up _The Summons_ and flipped it over, revealing a seven dollar price tag. "It's not exactly seventy-five cents, but it's still a lot cheaper than the jacket price."

"The fundraiser _never_ has new books."

"And yet here they are," Jess remarked.

"Is there anything good?" Rory asked, even as her eyes fell upon a title. "David McCullough's biography of John Adams," she said in awe, snatching it up. She flipped to the title page to make sure the jacket sleeve and the book inside matched. Finding that they did, she flipped back to the cover and searched for the price tag. "What does that say?" she asked excitedly, showing him the tag.

"Ten dollars."

"That has to be wrong."

"Ah, but it says ten dollars, and the customer is always right," Jess reminded her.

"I'm never going to be able to look through all of these," Rory sighed, looking at the rows of books. 

"Move over to the other side. I promise I'll tell you if there's anything good over here."

Rory smiled gratefully and, without a word, stood up to move around the table. Then, face to face across the expanse of books, they started weeding through the titles.

***

"Hey, have you ever read this one?" Jess asked a half an hour later. He held the book out for Rory to reach, and she took it from his hand. 

"_The Eyre Affair_? What's it about?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Well, according to the back, it's set in Great Britain in 1985, but it's an alternate universe. The Crimean War is still going strong, and the nation is obsessed with literature. The whole society revolves around it. The main character is a detective or something who's investigating a criminal that steals characters from classic books. When the characters are taken out of the original manuscript, the ending of every copy in print is altered."

"It sounds interesting," Rory commented, flipping through the pages. 

"Characters from the novels are characters in the book. Jane Eyre, Mr. Rochester… some characters from Dickens and Poe."

"That's ambitious."

"And risky," Jess agreed. "First-time author."

"Okay, this is the last one I'm getting," she vowed, adding it to her stack.

"Should we go?" 

"Not so fast. I found something for you," she teased, waving a book in the air, just out of his sight.

"Yeah, right. Is this payback for the Dean thing earlier?"

"No," Rory replied. "You'll like it."

"What is it? Larry McMurtry? Tami Hoag?"

Rory flipped the book, so she could read the title. "_We've Got the Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story of LA Punk_."

"Sure, it is," Jess scoffed, standing and brushing the grass off his pants. "Do you need some help carrying those?"

"Jess, I'm serious," Rory said honestly. 

"And I'm Dweezil Zappa."

"You're gonna regret doubting me," she warned, as she walked around the table and handed him the book.

Jess took it out of her hand. "_This_ book was under _that_ table?"

"You're not the only one with a good eye," she retorted with a grin. She knelt down to grab some of her books. 

Jess looked over at her, noticing the way wisps of her hair dangled in her face as she gathered her choices. He glanced down at the book in his hand, shook his head, and smiled slightly.

"Should we find a box?" she asked, standing up.

"Or ten or twelve," he complained good-naturedly, tucking the book under his arm as he grabbed a stack of her books and followed her back to the library stairs.

***

"Wow, you made out like a bandit," Gypsy commented as she tallied Rory's purchases.

"Well, you've got great stuff this year."

"And I see you found our secret stash."

"Secret stash?" Rory repeated.

"The new releases. We like to hide them under a table, so people have to work for the cheap prices."

"They've been there every year?" Rory asked, wide-eyed.

"Every year," Gypsy nodded.

"And I didn't know. I can't believe it!"

"If we told people, it wouldn't be a secret."

"Who usually finds them?" Rory asked.

"Out-of-town book collectors. They leave no table unturned. Literally."

"I can't believe it!" Rory repeated. She turned to Jess. "And I can't believe you found them your first year here."

Jess looked up from the L.A. punk book and smirked. "Face it, Gilmore; your skills of detection are not as good as you'd like to think."

"Should I return that book then?" she threatened.

"You better be careful, Jess. This one can be vicious," Gypsy teased, winking at Rory.

"Consider me warned," Jess stated, turning back to his book.

Rory scowled at him and handed her money over to Gypsy.

***

"They need to find a lighter way to make books," Rory complained to Jess as they lugged her boxes across town.

"They already have online versions of some books," Jess pointed out.

"That's pretty impersonal."

"And lighter."

"What about the musty smell?" she asked.

"It's lighter."

"And the feel of the pages turning under your fingers?"

"It's lighter."

 "And curling up in a cozy armchair?" 

"It's lighter."

"A big, bulky computer is lighter than a tiny hardcover book?" she quizzed him skeptically.

"A big, bulky computer is lighter than a thousand tiny hardcover books, packed into a hundred bulky boxes," he remarked.

"Complain, complain," she chided, smiling.

He rolled his eyes, and they walked together in silence until they reached Luke's.

"We should stop for a minute," he said, pausing by the diner door.

"Wuss! Your arms hurt already?"

"My arms went numb two blocks ago," Jess replied.

"Then we probably shouldn't stop, or you'll have to go through the whole process all over again. You know, first, there's that moment when you pick up the boxes, and you think, 'Ha! Piece of cake!' … until you carry them about ten or fifteen steps, and the dull ache starts. Then, before you know it, searing pain is radiating up and down your arms, and you pray for the pain to stop. Thankfully, it does when your arms go numb, and…"

"I want to give you something," he interrupted, shuffling the boxes so he could pull open the door.

"Like what?"

"Something."

"Something what?" she asked again.

"Just come on," he answered, holding the door open with his back as she walked past him into the diner.

***

"Okay, I knew it was a bad idea to stop," Rory moaned as she plodded up the stairs to Luke's apartment. "My arms feel like they're going to shrivel up and fall off."

"Now who's the wuss?" Jess asked, turning to raise an eyebrow at her.

She struggled against the urge to make a face at the back of his head as they climbed the rest of the stairs. Reaching the top, they turned and headed towards the apartment door. Glancing over his shoulder, Jess pulled it open and started to walk inside. Before he had even cleared the doorway, however, he paused abruptly and turned around to face Rory, nearly bumping into her in the process. 

"Wait here," he ordered, not even waiting for her response before he scooted into the apartment and shut the door. Somewhat frantically, his eyes darted around the room, taking in the disaster area he'd created when he'd unpacked the things that Liz had sent. He started to grab things off from backs of chairs and throw them into the closet. But, the more he got rid of, the more that seemed to appear. Giving up, he sighed, walked over to the door, and pulled it open. "Come on in," he said resignedly, moving aside.

As Rory walked past him, she glanced around at the chaotic disarray that invaded every crevice of the room. "Aw, Jess, you didn't need to clean up," she commented, stifling a laugh.

"Very funny," he replied stiffly.

"What happened in here?"

"I unpacked."

"Next time, you might want to aim for the dressers and closets."

"So that's how it works," Jess remarked before walking over to a corner and kneeling down to shuffle through some of his things.

Rory smiled and started wandering around the room. "I've never been up here before."

"No?"

"Nope. It's bigger than I expected," she said, her eyes skimming over some books Jess had left piled on the floor.

"Not big enough," Jess replied, flicking through a stack of cds he'd retrieved from beneath a pile of clothes. "Luke seems to think we're moving."

"Luke wants to move?" Rory asked. She picked up one of the books and flipped it open. As she did so, something fell out from among the pages and landed on the floor.

"Apparently," Jess answered, turning back to Rory just in time to see her bend down and retrieve the item from the floor.

Confused, she stared at it for a moment, then pushed up her sleeve and glanced at her empty wrist.

"I've been meaning to give that back to you," Jess said, walking towards her.

"Where did you get this?"

"You dropped it. The day of the picnic."

"That's impossible. That was two weeks ago," Rory stated. "I would've noticed."

"It was on the bridge after you stood up."

"And you didn't give it back?" she asked, trying to process the situation.

"I forgot."

"You forgot?" she asked disbelievingly.

"You stormed away, so I put it in my pocket, and then I forgot it was there. Is it valuable or something?"

"Dean made it for me," Rory answered, running her fingers gently over the soft leather.

Jess nodded slightly, fixing his eyes on the floor. On anything but her.

Rory had half-expected him to make one of his typical comments, and her brain registered a brief flicker of surprise when he didn't. But that thought soon joined the millions of others racing through her mind and was lost. She was having a hard time focusing; questions just kept shooting through her consciousness one-by-one like some sort of twisted cognitive assembly line. Dizzy, she looked up at Jess, hoping for answers. At that exact moment, he turned his gaze back up to her, and their eyes locked. Instantly, the frantic flurry of questions narrowed into an infinitesimal point.  For reasons she was unsure of, Rory didn't ask her questions. Instead, she returned her attention to the bracelet and stubbornly attempted to refasten it around her wrist. As she struggled with it unsuccessfully, tears started to sting at the corners of her eyes, which only served to frustrate her more. She was just about ready to give up when she felt Jess draw closer. Hesitantly, one of his hands reached out and took the bracelet from her, while the other gently held her wrist steady. She kept her eyes glued to her wrist as he carefully put the bracelet back on; she refused to look up even as she felt the warmth of his fingertips disappear from her skin, leaving it cold in his absence. She folded her arms over her chest protectively and stared at the ground.

"Here," he said quietly, his voice surprisingly normal.

Not sure what else to do, Rory shifted uncomfortably and lifted her eyes just enough to see his outstretched hand holding a cd out to her. She reached out and took it, glancing at the cover of the album, _The Shaggs_.

"I kept forgetting to give you that too," he said calmly.

"Thanks," she replied, finally raising her eyes the rest of the way to meet his.

"You're welcome."

"I have to go," she said softly, trying to ignore the strange feeling in her stomach as she looked at him.

"Okay."

"I'll see you later."

"Okay," he repeated.

Without another word, she left.

***

"I'm sure she'll be back any minute," Lorelai assured Dean after seeing him glance at his watch for the tenth time. "She loses track of time when books are involved."

"I should go," Dean said sadly.

"Give her ten more minutes."

"The last matinee of 'Lord of the Rings' started forty-five minutes ago."

"Dean, I know for a fact that she is incredibly sorry about this."

"It's not a big deal," Dean replied, standing and heading to the door. "Can you have her call me when she gets home?"

"I won't even let her take her jacket off first."

"Thanks for lunch."

"Hey, thanks for cleaning our gutters," Lorelai answered with visibly forced cheerfulness.

"Anytime. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dean," Lorelai said, shutting the door behind him. Frowning, she went to the window and watched him walk dejectedly down the sidewalk. Then, flopping down on the couch, she looked at her watch and sighed.

***

After wandering around Stars Hollow's more secluded areas for a while in an attempt to gather her thoughts, Rory walked slowly in the direction of her house, twisting her bracelet absentmindedly. By the time she reached the front stoop, she realized she couldn't remember crossing intersections or turning corners or any other action she'd taken on the way home. Mechanically, she pulled open the front door and walked inside.

"Where have you been?" Lorelai asked, rushing over to her before she'd even made it all the way through the door. "Why didn't you respond to your pager? Are you hurt?" she said quickly, scanning her daughter for any visible injuries. 

"I left my pager in my room, and, no, I'm not hurt," Rory answered, her mother's anxious behavior suddenly jerking her back to reality. "What's going o… Oh, no! Dean!"

"You forgot?"

"I completely forgot! Oh my God, he must hate me!"

"We'll get to that later. Where were you?"

"At the book sale," Rory said, pulling off her coat and collapsing onto the couch.

"This whole time?" Lorelai asked, sitting beside her.

"Well, no," Rory admitted. "I—Lane stopped by, and she was having a crisis, so I went to her house, and I guess we lost track of time," she rambled, wondering absently when she'd become so adept at lying.

"Is Lane okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Crisis averted. It's like it never even happened."

"Well, that's good, at least."

"How mad is he?"

"Hmm… well, do you remember that movie 'Falling Down'?"

"Yeah," Rory said hesitantly.

"And do you remember when the fast food place wouldn't serve Michael Douglas breakfast, so he went ballistic and started shooting?"

"Uh-huh," Rory prodded, worried.

"Dean wasn't that mad."

"That's the _best_ you can do?"

"You're supposed to call him."

"I _cannot_ believe I forgot! Oh my God! And I forgot my books," Rory said, putting her hands over her face.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you can get them from Lane's tomorrow."

"Yeah, right," Rory mumbled under her breath. Sighing, she looked at her mother. "How mad are you?"

"I'm not mad. Just try to remember to call next time, okay? It's hard to reassure your boyfriend when I'm freaking out myself."

"I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," Lorelai said, kissing the top of Rory's head. She wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her into a hug. "You look exhausted. Was Lane's crisis really that bad?"

"I'm just tired," Rory sighed, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and closing her eyes for a second. They stayed that way for a while until Rory groaned and moved to get up. "I better go call Dean."

"Probably a good idea."

Rory nodded and rose from the couch, but Lorelai quickly grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "He's not that mad."

"Thanks," Rory replied, squeezing her mom's hand back before pulling away.

As Rory moved, Lorelai glanced down and noticed Dean's bracelet wrapped around her daughter's wrist. A thin band of soft leather. A thin band of soft leather that looked suspiciously like a bookmark she'd seen recently. By the time she'd recovered enough from her surprise to say something, Rory was already walking into her bedroom.  


	12. Weaving Tangled Webs

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 12: Weaving Tangled Webs**

**_A/N: _**_A million thanks to all of the reviewers out there. Your job can be a tedious one at times but know that we, or at least I, appreciate so very much that you take the time to let us know what you think. You keep the fanfic world turning, and, for that, you are irreplaceable. Thanks also to **CircleSky and ****AvidTVfan for being pretty darn awesome, and again and always, to my sister. Even when sick and miserable, she read this chapter and said such sweet things that I actually blushed. Can't ask for much cooler family than that. Enjoy this yet-again lengthy chapter, y'all. **_

**_Disclaimer_**_: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to the WB, Amy-Sherman Palladino, and all those other cool people. I borrowed a teeny-tiny bit of dialogue for this chapter, which means it's their brilliance not mine. You'll recognize it when you read it, I'm sure. Also, just an FYI, since ASP couldn't seem to decide when Jimmy left Liz and Jess… I'm taking my own liberties as well. If you don't like it, blame her for her indecisiveness. Hehe._

The following morning, Rory sat on a bench in the town gazebo and nervously twisted the leather bracelet tied around her wrist. The sun had begun peeking out over the horizon just an hour or two before, and, for the most part, the town was deserted. Absently, she turned her eyes to the sprawling tree that had been regally guarding the gazebo ever since she could remember. Last time she'd noticed, its leaves had still been hidden away in winter hibernation, but now she was surprised to find that the branches were green with life. Seeing the sudden color reminded her of when she was maybe eight or nine and had been sick with a nasty flu. For days, the blinds on her bedroom window had been closed, so she could rest without interruption, and, thanks to her mother, she'd had no real need to leave bed. To this day, she still vividly remembered the moment, after the flu had subsided, when she'd gone to her window and opened the blinds. Before she'd become sick, everything outside had been painted in the stark gray and brown shades of winter, but when she looked out the window just days later, everything was suddenly bright and sunny and green. She'd stared out that window for quite a while, just taking in the lush leaves, the crystal blue sky, and the blooms of color erupting from the auburn, ceramic pots in her neighbors' yards. It was like going to sleep in Kansas and waking up in Oz. It had struck her at that moment, at such a young age, how quickly things could change.

Shifting her eyes from the tree, Rory looked down at her bracelet. The edges of the leather were slightly worn and discolored. When Dean had first given it to her, she'd spent hours examining it, twirling it around her wrist, memorizing the slight texture flaws that made it special, that made it hers. She'd run her fingers over it a million times in those first few weeks, and then, eventually, she'd stopped. Now, she sadly realized that it'd been a long time since she'd even really looked at it. She slowly revolved it around her wrist, easily locating those familiar imperfections.

"Hey," Lane greeted breathlessly as she collapsed onto the bench beside Rory, disrupting her from her reverie. "I have approximately," she continued, looking at her watch, "fifteen minutes. What's the emergency?"

Rory looked up from the bracelet. "I'm a horrible person."

"See, I knew it had to be something extreme for you to be up this early on a weekend."

"I am – I'm a horrible person," Rory said again, more to herself than to Lane. "I'm a liar. A fibber. A fraud."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Lane said hesitantly.

"And now I have no choice but to get you involved. So I guess that makes me a corruptor too. Your mom should've kept you far away from me. I'm a lying, fibbing, corrupting fraud."

"Rory, I'm not really following here."

"I lied to Dean."

"Okay," Lane said carefully, trying to be supportive. "That happens. Sometimes you have to lie to protect the ones you love."

"And my mom."

"You lied to _Lorelai_? Why would you lie to Lorelai?"

"Exactly. I have _no_ reason to lie to my mother, who has always been understanding and sympathetic, and yet I did," Rory said in resignation. "I'm unbelievable."

"Okay, Rory. I know you. If you lied to your mom, you had a reason."

"No, not really. I'm just a horrible person, and that's what we do."

"Well, then I must be a horrible person too because I lie to my mom all the time."

"No, you don't."

"Oh yeah? Just last night, I told her the tofu pie we had for dessert – and I use the term 'dessert' lightly – was great, and then, not an hour later, I snuck out to Luke's for a cookie. Out the window! Before you ask, yes, my room _is still on the second floor! And, no, a magical tree did not miraculously sprout up outside said window to assist my escape! So, in addition to seriously endangering my life for a __cookie, I, like you, lied to my mother. Did I tell her where I was going? No. Was the tofu pie great? No. Did I enjoy the pilfered cookie? Yes! Did I have a second? You bet I did!" Lane exclaimed._

A small smile tugged at the corners of Rory's lips. "Any normal person would lie for one of Luke's cookies."

"You are not a horrible person, Rory. Trust me."

"But your lies were innocent. Those lies don't even compare to my lie."

"Let me be the judge of that. What was the lie about?"

"Jess," Rory said flatly.

"Oh."

"See, see! I say 'Jess', and you say 'Oh.' That 'oh' says it all."

"What does my 'oh' say exactly?" 

"That you disapprove. That I shouldn't have lied. That I'm a horrible person."

"That's not what the 'oh' meant. At least, that's not what I meant for it to mean. It obviously has a mind of its own. Here, let me try again," Lane stated. She paused for effect and adopted a very straight face. Then, ready, she tried again. "Ohhh?" she repeated, drawing the word out into a question and exaggerating enormously in the process.

Rory, at last, smiled. 

"See, it was more of a 'Please continue' oh. Or an 'Oh, you don't say?' oh. Definitely not an 'oh' of disapproval."

"Okay," Rory accepted reluctantly.

"And you're not a horrible person."

"Okay."

"Repeat after me: 'I, Rory Gilmore, am not a horrible person'."

Rory smiled a little and said mechanically, "I, Rory Gilmore, am not a horrible person."

Lane smiled. "To be honest, your Ben Stein impersonation isn't really convincing me that you believe, but I'll take it for now. We have 11 minutes left. So tell me what happened, and we'll figure out a plan."

"Dean cleaned our gutters yesterday."

"Mm-hm. And?"

"And I was gonna stay and keep him company, but the book sale was yesterday."

"Right. You'd been looking forward to that."

"Exactly. And Dean knew that, so he made me go, despite my protests. So, to make it up to him, we agreed I'd treat him to a movie after he was done."

"Okay. Seems fine so far."

"But then I ran into Jess at the book sale."

"Oh," Lane said, frowning. Immediately realizing what she'd said… again, she began to apologize profusely. "Sorry! Sorry! Ignore the 'oh'! Jess is fine. I like Jess. Well, maybe 'like' is too strong a word. I tolerate him. Well, sort of. Sometimes. I mean, he knows music, so he can't be all bad, right?" Lane paused and sent Rory a sheepish look. "Just ignore me and continue. Please?"

Rory sighed. "It wasn't a big deal. He was there, and I was there, so we started looking at books, and he found the new release area, which I never even knew existed. It had been there every year, and I didn't even know. So, needless to say, I was a little excited. We both were. And we got all caught up in looking at them, and I guess I lost track of time. So we went to buy the books, and I had a million boxes, so Jess offered to help me carry them. So we were carrying the boxes, and we got to Luke's, and Jess asked me to come in, so he could give me something. We went in, and then there was this… thing…" she trailed off, leaving the statement unfinished. "And so I left … and I just completely forgot about Dean. But then, when I got home, did I just confess?" Rory asked rhetorically, her words picking up speed as she grew angrier with herself. "No, of course not. I could've. I could've admitted everything, but instead I told my mom _you had a crisis, and I had to help you, and I lost track of time, and then I called Dean and told him the same thing, and he was so sweet. All he wanted to know was that everything was okay with you. He wasn't even mad. But he should've been mad because I lied to him… and I lied to my mom… and I got you involved when you were just an innocent bystander. You weren't even an innocent bystander. You were an innocent away-stander. But I didn't care because I needed an excuse, and I thought of you. And what's worse is this isn't even the first time I lied. I lied about destroying the snowman. I lied about the picnic. I told Dean and my mom that it was just tradition, which it is, but I actually think I wanted to go. And I lied to Dean about not being able to call him that night because I called Jess. I _found_ time to call Jess. And I leave details out, which is just as bad as lying, if not worse, because it's completely intentional. Leaving details out isn't some spur-of-the-moment kind of thing like lying is; it's calculated and planned and despicable. I'm a calculating, planning, despicable, lying, detailing-leaving-outting, horrible person. And, now, it's even worse because, once you tell a lie, you can't go back. You just have to make up more lies, which is why I made you come here. So _you_ can help me cover up all the lies I keep telling, which makes me a corruptor. I'm a corrupting, planning, despicable, lying, detail-leaving-outting, horrible person," she finished, before pausing at last to breathe._

"Wow," Lane said, wide-eyed. "That was amazing. That was basically the last few months of your life in one breath. How did you do that?"

"I don't know," Rory answered, exhausted.

Lane stared at her friend and nodded in wonder.

"You're not saying anything," Rory accused. "Say something."

"Okay. Well, I… uh, you ac--?  There's…? And…?" she said in bewilderment. 

"Full sentences," Rory prodded.

Lane grabbed a thought mid-air and spoke. "_You_ destroyed the snowman?"

"With Jess," Rory sighed. "It was probably that poor guy's dream to win that contest, and we just wrecked it. Just like that."

"I had no idea. Wow. That's…"

"Appalling?" Rory offered.

"Impressive." 

"_Impressive?"_

"Yeah," Lane nodded.

"I don't think you're quite grasping the severity of the situation here. I'm out-of-control."

"No, you're confused," Lane stated. "It's understandable. I mean, there's obviously something going on between you and Jess."

Rory opened her mouth to interrupt, but Lane continued, "I'm not saying it's a 'something-something', but it's something. A friendship or a connection or something else, but whatever it is, you don't want to believe it or feel it because you love Dean and he's a great guy and you don't want to hurt him. Which is understandable. And your mom doesn't like Jess, so you feel like you can't tell her what's going on. Again, understandable. You're just trying to protect everyone involved until everything makes sense."

Rory sighed sadly and looked down at her bracelet again. "But what if it never makes sense?"

"It will…. probably…. eventually," Lane offered. "I think. I'm sort of blindly grasping for wisdom here."

Rory smiled a little and glanced at her friend. "So what do I do until then?"

"Devise my really believable debilitating crisis?"

"And so the corruption begins…"

***

Minutes later, a tentative plan was formed, and Lane sprinted back home to get ready for church. Rory, meanwhile, decided she better go take care of the remaining physical evidence of her lie. Walking quickly down the stairs of the gazebo, she headed in the direction of Luke's. 

As she got closer and closer to the diner, her body became awash in a flood of nervous tingles, and it was all she could do not to turn around and head in the direction of her house instead. She convinced herself that there was no way he would be awake this early on a Sunday morning; it was the only way she could keep walking. When she reached the diner, she climbed the few stairs to the door and peered cautiously between the blind slats. Luke was inside, putting a fresh liner in the coffee pot. He was alone.

Experiencing a simultaneous onslaught of disappointment and relief, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. Luke glanced up as she walked in and, seeing who his customer was, frowned slightly in confusion.

"Hey Rory," he hesitantly greeted her.

"Hi Luke," Rory replied as she approached the counter and sat down on a stool.

"What are you doing here?"

"Getting a cup of coffee?" Rory offered uncertainly. "You're open, right?"

"Yeah, we're open. It's just --," he paused, eyeing her carefully. "You and your mom don't usually show up here until after ten-thirty… at the earliest."

"I was up early today."

"I always figured your clocks didn't even register AM time on weekends."

"No, AM does occasionally make an appearance. Rarely though, only on special occasions."

"And the special occasion is…?"

"Every day is a holiday somewhere," Rory stated weakly.

Luke didn't buy her story for a second. "Did something happen? Did you and your mom get in another fight?"

"No, no fight."

"Okay," he accepted. He paused uncomfortably, unsure how to handle the situation. There was a reason he wasn't the one with the teenager. Except, he suddenly realized, he _did_ have a teenager. He was going to have to figure out how to do this eventually; might as well start now. "Is there anything I can do or…"

"A cup of coffee would be perfect," Rory interjected, saving him from attempting to find a way to finish his sentence.

"Coffee… okay," he said, turning to the pot, thankful for the easy out. Unfortunately, the sight of the percolating, nearly empty pot immediately reminded him that he'd just started the coffee. Frowning, he abruptly turned back to the teenage girl at the counter and pointed at the pot. "It'll be a minute."

"Okay," Rory nodded. She glanced over her shoulder and scanned the diner again. When she located the two boxes of books she and Jess had unceremoniously abandoned in a corner the night before, she frowned and turned back to Luke. Her arms ached from carrying them yesterday, and the boxes looked even heavier today.

Luke was still studying Rory carefully, trying to figure out what was going on, when her eyes met his. She could tell he was concerned. "Jess mentioned that you might move," she said casually, hoping to distract him.

"Yeah," Luke nodded. "It's probably time."

"That'll be weird though, I bet. Living somewhere else and having to make a special trip to come to work."

"I hadn't thought about that," Luke admitted, folding his arms over his chest. "I can't believe I didn't think of that," he mumbled to himself, not at all fond of the idea.

"It'll be nice though. I bet you'll find a really great place. Mom always liked Peach. Did you guys look on Peach?"

"Yeah. Peach. Plum. Fig. We hit 'em all."

"Good. That's good," Rory smiled, shifting uncomfortably. "I think the coffee's ready," she said, peering around him at the pot.

Luke glanced over his shoulder at the full pot. "Yeah, it is. Let me just grab you a mug. They're still in back," he explained.

Rory nodded and watched as Luke headed in back. Moments later, he emerged, carrying a rack of mugs. Neither of them spoke as Luke placed the rack on the counter and grabbed a mug for her. Filling it to the brim, he turned back around and expertly glided it along the surface of the counter towards her. Rory looked down and was about to pick it up when she saw Luke's hand still resting on the handle. Confused, she glanced up and was met with Luke's concerned but surprisingly comforting eyes. He seemed to hesitate briefly, and then, he offered gently. "If there's anything you want to talk about, I can try… I mean, if you ever…"

"I'm okay, Luke, but thanks," she warmly assured him.

"Okay," he nodded, moving his hand away from the mug. "Coffee's on the house."

"Thanks," Rory smiled gratefully before taking a sip.

"Paper?" he asked, grabbing the Sunday edition from the counter.

"Don't mind if I do," Rory answered. She took the paper from his hand and turned her eyes to the headlines.

Luke watched her for a second, smiled, and then turned to fill the donut tray with fresh pastries.

***

The increasing din of the breakfast crowd cut through Rory's concentration, and she looked up from the paper. The once-empty diner was now quickly filling up with customers. Surprised, Rory glanced at her watch and realized that nearly 40 minutes had gone by. She'd wanted to be home before her mom woke up. She _needed to be out of the diner before Jess woke up. Taking one last large gulp of her coffee, she neatly refolded the paper and laid it on the counter. Then, pulling on the jacket she'd absentmindedly removed at some point during the forty minute interval, she hopped down from the stool and headed towards the boxes. _

The two boxes were stacked one on top of the other, and, feeling Herculean, she knelt down and slid her fingers under the bottom box. On the count of three, she pushed with her legs and promptly went… nowhere. In the rational part of her brain, she'd known there was no way she was going to be able to lift both boxes at once, but these days, she was pretty confident that rationality was one of her weaker traits. Sighing, she scooted away from the boxes and tried to think of another way to get them home. Short of the sudden appearance of a crane, she was at a loss.

"Are those yours?" Luke asked, pausing beside her on his way back to the counter.

"Uh, yeah. They're mine," Rory answered, still brainstorming.

"How did they get here?"

"We carried them."

"We? We who?"

"Do you have any idea how I could get them home?" Rory asked, avoiding the question.

"Well, I'd help, but things are pretty busy here. Do you want me to get Jess?"

"No!" Rory said quickly. "I mean, that's okay. I'll figure it out."

"You sure?" Luke asked, again puzzled by her behavior.

"Yeah. I'm sure. Thanks."

"Okay," Luke accepted. "If you change your mind, let me know." Without another word, he hurried to the counter to fill orders.

Rory sighed and glanced at the apartment stairs worriedly. Then, making an abrupt decision, she hefted the top box into her arms and headed for the door.

***

As Rory turned towards her front yard, she struggled to prevent her arms from giving out under the weight of the box. It had been a lot easier yesterday when she could distract herself from the pain by talking to Jess. Today, every twinge registered. The light at the end of the tunnel finally visible, she scurried awkwardly towards the stairs. Taking the first step, her knee bumped against the bottom of the box and nearly sent it flying to the ground. Instinctively, she struggled to maintain her hold, but a couple of books on top slid from the box and hit the stairs with a loud clunk. Moments later, Rory heard the click of the front door opening.

"Is that my darling daughter or a cardboard box with legs?" Lorelai teased, causing Rory to peek around the side of the box.

"Very funny," she mumbled, shifting her position.

"Why didn't you yell or something?" Lorelai asked, lifting the box from her daughter's arms.

Rory exhaled gratefully and immediately rubbed her aching arms. "I figured the neighborhood only needed one Gilmore call of distress this week."

"Geez, what do you have in here? Bricks?" Lorelai asked, mounting the rest of the stairs.

Rory bent down and retrieved the fallen books, then hurried up the steps to open the door for her mother.

"A single book seems deceptively light," Rory remarked. "But it turns out a ton of feathers still weighs a ton."

"Should it concern me that I actually followed that stream of consciousness?"

"Probably."

"How many feathers do you think it would take to make a ton?" Lorelai asked, dropping the box on the floor as soon as she got inside.

"A lot," Rory answered. "My arms hurt."

"So do mine."

"You carried them three feet. _I_ carried them ten miles."

"Well, honey, why were you circling the town? You could've just brought them straight here."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Rory asked, collapsing on the couch.

"Walk how the crow flies. Must I teach you everything?"

"Too much pain. Cannot banter."

"Wow. That's some serious pain. Let me see," Lorelai said, sitting beside her and pulling her arm into her lap. "Those are gonna bruise," she commented as she gently touched Rory's bright red forearms. "Too bad Lane doesn't have any big, burly brothers."

"Yeah, too bad," Rory moped.

"But at least you caught her before church. I know you and your beloved books were experiencing separation anxiety."

"Well, now they're disowned," Rory declared, glaring back at the toppled box.

"Do I smell coffee?" Lorelai asked suddenly, sniffing the air.

"Huh?"

"Coffee. I _distinctly_ smell Luke's coffee. And bacon and," she paused, leaning towards Rory and sniffing her jacket. "Belgian waffles. You went to Luke's!" she exclaimed, gently shoving Rory away from her in dismay.

"I needed coffee," Rory said guiltily. "And 'Ow'!"

"You went to Luke's… without me… on Belgian Waffle Sunday?" Lorelai asked in exaggerated disbelief.

"I didn't know it was Belgian Waffle Sunday when I went," Rory pointed out.

"That's no excuse."

"I just carried twenty tons of books for ten miles," Rory tried again.

"Likely story," Lorelai replied, narrowing her eyes.

Rory held up her arms. "I have the bruises to prove it."

"C'mon, we're going to Luke's."

"But I was just there."

"Yes, without me. C'mon, up! Up! Belgian Waffles are an excellent salve."

"I've _never heard that."_

"Sure. It's common knowledge. Dip 'em in syrup, stick 'em to your arm, instant pain relief."

"That's ridiculous," Rory said, standing up.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. C'mon, out the door," Lorelai prodded, pushing Rory towards the foyer. "Watch out for the orphans," she reminded, stepping over the displaced books.

"Can I be an orphan?" Rory asked.

"I can't even tell you how many times I wondered that same thing when I was your age," Lorelai admitted, pulling the door shut behind them.

***

The diner bell chimed, announcing Lorelai and Rory's arrival. As soon as they'd cleared the doorway, Rory's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of Jess. He wasn't in sight. Begrudgingly, she followed her mother to an empty table and sat down. In mere moments, Luke spotted them and approached the table to take their order.

"Rory," he greeted. "Lorelai. What can I get you?"  

"I thought you were supposed to send me advanced notice about Belgian Waffle Sunday," Lorelai replied without prelude.

"Excuse me?"

"The ad in the paper? The newsletter? The bright, flashing neon sign? The skywriter? Ringing any bells?" 

"No, not really."

"The letters lovingly melted into the freshly fallen snow? B-E-L-G-I-A-N W-A-F…"

"It's Spring," Luke interrupted. "There isn't any snow."

"That shouldn't have stopped you!"

"In that case, I must've forgotten," Luke lied. "It's Belgian Waffle Sunday. There. Happy?"

"See, now that's just unacceptable. If you aren't going to schedule a _specific waffle day like normal diners, then you _must_ give preferred customers _advanced_ notice. Advanced as in 'before the sacred event occurs'."_

"Maybe I do give preferred customers advanced notice."

"Wow! Mean!" Lorelai exclaimed, her mouth open in astonishment.

"So I take it you want waffles?"

"Yes, please."

"What about you, Rory? Back for the rest of your books?"

"What?" Rory asked, turning her eyes from the curtained stairway to Luke.

"Your books," he repeated, gesturing towards the box in the corner. Lorelai glanced at the box, then at her daughter.

"Those aren't mine," Rory lied, feeling instantly guilty.

"What?" Luke asked, confused. "_Those_ books?" he reiterated, pointing his pencil at the box of books.

"My books were at Lane's."

"But…"

"Those must be someone else's," Rory said firmly. "It's weird that they'd leave them in the diner though. Can I have waffles too?"

"Sure," Luke muttered, sending Rory a baffled look. "Two orders of waffles." 

***

A queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Rory shoved her syrup-saturated waffle around on her plate and glanced remorsefully at Luke. He had been so nice to her that morning, worrying about her and checking to make sure she was okay, and she'd repaid him by lying to his face. And to make things even worse, he'd yelled up to Jess about fifteen minutes ago, which meant he could appear in the diner at any second. Rory frowned and slumped a little in her chair.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorelai glanced at her miserable daughter. Between the circumstances of yesterday, the mysterious relocation and re-relocation of the bracelet, and the phantom books, Lorelai had the situation pretty much figured out. The details were fuzzy, but she'd done enough lying to her parents to know how to read between the lines. In all honesty, it was somewhat reassuring to see how poorly Rory lied; it meant she didn't do it very often. Now it was just a matter of waiting until Rory finally caved.

"Hey!" Lane chirped happily, joining the Gilmores at their table.

"Hey Lane," Lorelai smiled, taking another bite of her waffle. "Free at last, huh?"

"I am. Are you gonna eat that, Rory?" Lane asked, pointing at the uneaten waffle.

"It's yours," Rory answered, pulling her fork away as Lane slid the plate in front of her and dove into the food.

"How are you doing?" Lorelai asked Lane.

"Me? I'm great!" she said nonchalantly before stretching her arm to the center of the table and grabbing the bottle of syrup.

"Yeah? Great, huh?"

"Yep," Lane affirmed, taking another bite of food.

"So, you've recovered from yesterday's crisis then?" Lorelai quizzed, glancing at Lane.

Lane paused, her fork mid-air. "Oh. Yeah," she mumbled around her mouthful of food. "I was just being a drama queen. Courtney Love has nothing on me. I feel horrible for messing up Rory's plans," she finished, sending an apologetic look to Rory.

"Is there anything I can do?" Lorelai asked.

"No, thanks. I guess I just thought I had dealt with the whole Henry thing, but apparently, there was still some residual resentment. I mean, he didn't even have the courtesy to break up with me in person. Stevie Wonder better get with the times and change his song to 'I Just Called to Say, I'm Breaking Up With You'."

"Doesn't quite have the same ring to it," Lorelai pointed out.

"Anyway, I'm definitely over it now. I just want to forget it ever happened."

"In that case, consider it forgotten," Lorelai agreed, glancing at Luke as he approached the table.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked.

Rory just shook her head, unable to make eye contact with him. 

"No, thanks, Luke," Lorelai replied. "I think we're set."

Luke nodded and glanced at Lane who was now nervously shoveling food into her mouth. "Lane?"

"Oh," Lane swallowed. "Actually, I only have about two seconds before I have to go. But thanks."

Luke nodded and walked away.

After he left, Rory looked up and watched him make his way around the counter. It wasn't until he'd moved just past the curtain to the upstairs apartment that her gaze turned to something – to someone – else. In an instant, her heart careened to a screeching halt, and the queasy feeling in her stomach was replaced by the strange feeling she'd felt in the apartment the day before. Afraid she might keel over from a heart attack, she silently willed her heart to start beating again, at which point it switched gears and started pounding relentlessly. 

Taking in the crowd, Jess glanced around the diner. Reaching the Gilmores' table, his eyes found hers. Instinct kicking in, Rory immediately looked away and tried to focus on the conversation at her table. Now paying attention, she realized with relief that Lane was saying her goodbyes and standing to go. Rory immediately leapt up as well. "I'll walk home with you."

"Okay," Lane said, sending her a curious look.

"I'll see you at home?" Rory directed towards her mother even as she grabbed her coat and inched towards the exit.

"Sure. See you at home," Lorelai agreed, barely able to finish the sentence before Rory disappeared out the door.

***

After Rory left, Lorelai turned her eyes to the teenage boy behind the counter. His eyes were still focused on the door, despite the fact that it had clicked shut several seconds before. 

He didn't know she was watching him. For the first time in his life, he wasn't astutely aware of his surroundings. All he knew was that Rory had been there, and now she wasn't. She'd disappeared before he'd even had time to process the fact that he'd seen her. And she'd done so voluntarily. She'd done so intentionally. 

Rory had been gone for nearly thirty seconds before Jess turned his eyes from the door. Lorelai had watched him intently the whole time. He'd had a faraway look on his face, a sad look. For a brief moment, Lorelai had felt sorry for him. If anyone asked her later, she'd deny it, but for the first time, some small part of her began to acknowledge that Rory wasn't the only one who might get hurt. 

Stubbornly forcing the thought away, she watched Jess scan the diner for Luke, then slip back upstairs undetected. Smirking a little at his skilled maneuver, she took a last bite of waffle, picked up her jacket, and walked over to sit at the counter.

"What was that all about?" Luke asked a minute or so later, after he returned to the counter to fill a customer's order.

"What?"

"Rory, bolting. I'm amazed her chair's still upright."

"Ah, _that was about Jess."_

"My Jess? Did he do something?"

"Probably," Lorelai shrugged.

"If he did something, I want to know. He's my responsibility."

"I wouldn't go bragging about that if I were you," Lorelai quipped, taking a sip from the cup of coffee Luke had set in front of her.

"I'll talk to him. Where is he?"

"He went back upstairs."

"What?" Luke asked, exasperated. "He's supposed to be helping down here! Will you watch things for a second?"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna drag him back down here."

"Give it a minute. I promise it'll still be fun later. How was the apartment shopping?"

Luke was slightly taken aback by Lorelai's nonchalant attitude, but, since everyone seemed to be visitors from the Outer Limits today, he let it go. "Uh. Okay. I didn't go with that place."

"The one with the walls and the floors and the light? Why not? It sounded great. Is it because I couldn't come give you a second opinion? Don't tell me I made you lose your dream apartment!"

"You were worried about Rory not coming home," Luke dismissed. "And it wasn't my dream apartment."

"It was. You're distraught."

"I'm not distraught," Luke disagreed. 

"Your eyes are all watery, and your lip is quivering… Carpe diem, Luke! Seize the day! Follow the dream!"

"I don't even think I want to move," he admitted.

"What? You _have_ to move. Remember the tiny television? The lack of privacy? Jess's blaring music?"

"The commute to work," Luke added.

"What are you talking about? What commute to work?"

"The one I'll have to make if I move."

"Okay, but Luke, that makes you a normal person."

"I've never commuted to work, and I'm still a normal person."

"Don't get carried away!" Lorelai teased. "Normal is a strong word – one I don't think you're quite ready for. And how long could your commute possibly be? It takes ten minutes to walk from one side of town to the other. Not even ten. Nine and a half."

"Which is nine and a half more minutes than I had to commute before."

"We're looking at your dream apartment," Lorelai stated. "I'll go with you today."

"She wanted an answer yesterday," Luke reminded her.

"She was bluffing, so you'd make a snap decision. There's still time."

"I don't thin--," Luke hedged.

"Call her. Make the appointment. We'll go when I get back from the Inn," Lorelai interjected firmly, grabbing her jacket. Luke started to protest, but she ignored him and waved goodbye as she headed out the door.

***

"I am _so sorry about that," Lane apologized as she and Rory walked towards her house. "We had a whole plan, and I completely blew it."_

"You didn't blow it," Rory disagreed.

"Oh, I blew it! I was supposed to be all depressed and moody and pining for Henry, and instead I was devouring your waffles."

"Okay, you might have blown it a little."

"I'm sorry!"

"It was a bad idea in the first place. Not only was I making you lie, but on a Sunday, right after church. We might as well have been standing on a mountaintop golf course holding an umbrella under a tree."

"Even so, I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven."

"So how did the whole book thing go this morning? Mission accomplished?"

"Mission half-accomplished."

"Man, it's _not_ our day today," Lane complained.

"I'll say."

"So, assuming my Razzie-caliber acting performance didn't already tip Lorelai off, what are we gonna do about those books?"

"I don't know. My mom has an anniversary party at the Inn today, so she'll be gone all afternoon, but I promised Dean I'd take him to a matinee to make up for yesterday. I wouldn't be able to get them until afterwards, and by then, my mom will be home."

"Then I'll get them!" Lane volunteered, excited. "I can slip away from my house at some point, grab the box from the diner, and use the key from the turtle to get into your house. Then, I'll just bring them to your room and hide them in your closet, a skill I've finely honed; Lorelai will never know."

"The box is heavy."

"I'm stronger than I look," Lane protested.

"_Really heavy."_

"Please let me do this for you. After this morning, I have to redeem myself."

"I'm the one who caused this mess," Rory reminded her.

"And I'm your friend, which, by law, means that I'm there to help you clean it up."

"By law?"

"Carole King _is_ gospel."

"I can't argue with that," Rory smiled.

"I really missed you," Lane said seriously, glancing at Rory.

"I missed you too," Rory answered, understanding what she meant.

They walked the rest of the way to Lane's in silence. When they reached her sidewalk, Lane turned to Rory. "You'll have your books before the night is through."

Rory nodded, and they headed opposite directions.

"Hey Rory," Lane called out from her porch.

"Yeah?" Rory called back, turning to look at her friend.

"'Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose'," Lane quoted. "'And most times you choose between the two'. It's gospel. I'll talk to you later."

Rory smiled and, thinking about what Lane had said, headed home.

***

Book in hand, Jess lay on his bed and pretended to read. He would've preferred to actually _be_ reading, but his mind didn't seem to want to focus. Nonetheless, pretending to read was better than actually _doing_ anything else. He continued to stare at the page even when he heard the door to the apartment open and close. Even when he felt Luke standing to his left.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, a slight tinge of anger in his voice.

"Reading," Jess said drolly.

"Is that for school?"

"Is that a joke?" Jess asked, rereading a sentence for the twentieth time.

"If it isn't for school, put it down and come downstairs."

"Are you encouraging illiteracy, Uncle Luke?"

"I'm encouraging a work ethic."

"I've never really been a big fan of ethics. But thanks for the encouragement."

"What did you do to Rory?" Luke asked bluntly.

"Excuse me?" Jess said, finally looking up at his uncle.

"She's upset, and Lorelai thinks it has something to do with you."

"Of course she does," Jess mumbled, turning back to his book.

"What does that mean?"

"It means she hates me," Jess said with disinterest. "Rory could stub her toe, and Lorelai would find a way to blame me for it."

"Lorelai doesn't hate you."

"If you say so," Jess retorted. "But you might want to ask her sometime before you make bold statements like that."

"Did you do something to Rory?"

"Not that I know of," Jess answered, turning the page of his book even though he didn't, for the life of him, know what had occurred on the one he'd been 'reading'.

"Not that you know of? So you could've done something?"

"According to Debbie Gibson, _anything_ is possible," Jess replied.

"Debbie Gibson? Who's that? Some ex-girlfriend of yours?"

Jess rolled his eyes. "She's the anti-Christ of the 80s pop scene."

"And you're quoting her?"

"Sorry, thought you might be a fan," Jess quipped.

"Your mom told me to watch over you."

"I know. It was very June Cleaver of her. Except for the whole abandonment thing. But, you know, nobody's perfect."

"You're right. Liz definitely isn't perfect."

"Glad we agree on something."

"But I'm trying here, Jess."

"Trying to what? Turn me into an 'after-school special' success story? 'Cuz if you are, let me just tell you right now, it's a lost cause."

Luke looked at his nephew, at a loss. Everyone had been telling him for months to give up on him. But, truth be told, he wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

"You know what, Jess?" Luke said calmly, adopting what he hoped was a convincingly fatherly voice. "I'm just gonna trust you. Let's see how far that gets us. Now come downstairs and get to work."

Without looking back, Luke left the apartment. Jess lowered his book and just sat for a moment, mulling what Luke had said. Trust. Not a word he heard everyday. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Then, he stood up and headed down to the diner.

***

Her moment of truth at hand, Lane boldly walked into the diner and looked around for Rory's box. Locating it in a far corner, she smiled and hurried over. It didn't look _that_ heavy. Just lift with the knees, isn't that what they always said? Lift with the knees or you throw your back out. Sounded simple enough. 

Rolling up her sleeves, she knelt down, wrapped her fingers under the box, and lifted. The box moved about a fourth of an inch off the ground, then immediately fell back down with a thud, smashing onto her fingers. "Ow! Ow!" Lane exclaimed, jerking her crushed hands out from under the box and shaking them in the air. She looked down at her fingers, expecting to see a gnarled mass of disfigurement, but thankfully, they looked normal… just a little red. 

Ignoring the pain, she decided to rethink her strategy. In a second attempt, she crouched down and wrapped her arms around the perimeter of the box as though she were giving it a giant bear hug. When she was pretty confident that she had a good grip on it, she started to lift again, but this time the weight of the box pushed her backward, and her legs slipped out from under her, sending her tailbone straight into the floor. "Ow!" 

Four strategies and three more unsuccessful attempts later, she was finally standing fully upright, the box weighing heavily in her arms, trying to work up the energy to turn towards the door.

"Are you sure those belong to you?" a voice asked suddenly from directly behind her, causing her to startle and lose her grip on the box, sending it plummeting back to the floor where it narrowly missed her foot by mere centimeters.

Angry, she glanced back at the intruder and saw Jess's smirking face. "I think you dropped something," he teased.

"Oh, you think?" she retorted grumpily. "I've been trying for ten minutes to lift that box."

"I know. It's like watching Sisyphus come to life."

"I'm glad you're finding it amusing," Lane said sarcastically, glaring at him. "Did you ever consider offering to help?"

"I'm in charge of the diner, so unless you were just planning on carrying it from one side of the room to the other…"

"You can go away now."

"Where's Rory?" he asked.

"At the movies," Lane answered, eyeing the box in attempt to remember which of her many strategies had actually worked.

"Huh," Jess accepted. He watched as Lane tried the previously failed third strategy. "Didn't work the first time either," he said as the box smacked into the wall and tipped over onto the floor.

"You're just Mr. Helpful, aren't you?" she snipped, kneeling to gather the scattered books. "Where's Luke?"

"Prostituting himself for a place to live."

"What?" Lane asked, looking at Jess with wide eyes.

"Getting a new apartment."

"You're moving?"

Jess shrugged.

"Wow! I can't imagine Luke living anywhere else," she said absently before trying unsuccessfully to lift the box again. "I give up!" she declared. "This box is immovable."

"There's no such thing."

"What?" Lane asked, glancing at him.

"Immovable. There's no such thing."

"Didn't you used to not talk?" Lane asked, turning back to the box.

"No, I always talked. Just not to you."

"I'm flattered."

"Name one immovable object."

"Go away."

"People have wasted hours wondering what would happen if an irresistible force met an immovable object, but the situation isn't even possible," Jess explained. "Nothing's immovable, and nothing's irresistible."

"Your charm is proof of that," Lane remarked.

Ignoring her, Jess continued, "The definition of immovable is something that can't be moved… ever."

"Like this box."

"Except I could move it," he reminded her.

"Then move it! I'm begging you! Give it a go!"

"And the definition of irresistible is something that can't be resisted… ever."

"Does this conversation seem ridiculous to anyone but me?" Lane asked.

"So an irresistible force can never meet an immovable object because neither of them could exist in the first place."

"Thank you for that pointless knowledge, Bill Nye," Lane said, giving up on the whole lifting-with-the-legs idea and trying to hoist the box up from a standing position.

Sighing, Jess reached down and effortlessly lifted the box. "Here," he said, setting it in her arms and holding it steady while she got a firm grasp on it.

"Finally! Thank you," she said gratefully, heading towards the door before the box had another chance to slip. She made it about halfway before she felt the slow, aching burn in the muscles of her forearms. She paused and looked at Jess. "I'm gonna kill myself if I carry this home, aren't I?"

"There's a good possibility."

Lane nodded and released the box, sending it crashing to the ground. "In that case, can I just get a Coke?" she asked, walking over to sit on a stool.

Jess nodded and stepped around the counter to get her a drink. As he filled the glass with ice, Lane watched him intently. Jess turned back around and saw her staring at him. "Problem?" he asked, setting the glass of Cola in front of her.

"It's weird to hear you talk in full sentences."

"I can stop," he offered.

"That's okay. I'll get over it."

Jess nodded. "Don't worry. It probably won't happen again anyway."

"That's kind of what I figured," Lane said, smiling.

***

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?" Luke asked grumpily, as he and Lorelai turned up the street.

"You're living in what could easily be classified as a big walk-in closet with a sullen teenager and a TV the size of a spitball."

"Ah. Right." He frowned and glanced up at the street sign. "Ever since I was a kid, I've wondered what happened to A Street?"

"Huh?"

"This street… _B_ street," he emphasized. "There isn't another street in this town named after a letter of the alphabet."

"Well, that's because B's a special letter."

"It is?" Luke asked skeptically.

"Sure. Lots of great words start with B. Bamboo, for example. Baboon. Bling-bling. Bugle. Bagpipe!"

"_That's your defense? Bagpipe?"_

"You're gonna deny the wonder of the word bagpipe?"

"If bagpipe is such a great word, they should've named the street Bagpipe Street."

"And neglect all of the other worthy instruments?" Lorelai asked, aghast. "What about poor Mr. Guitar? Or Mr. Saxophone? The beloved triangle? And the tuba? The tuba gets _no_ respect."

"Tuba Street?"

"See, no respect."

"Is there any way I can win here?"

"Probably not. Especially if you're planning on belittling Mr. Electric Bass next."

"Electric Bass Street?"

"Sort of has a punk rock/lake chic ring to it, doesn't it?"

"But it neglects the other fish," Luke mocked. "What about Tuna Trail?"

"That's the spirit! Alliteration and everything. I think you've found your calling. We're here," she pointed out, pausing to pull open the door to the building.

"I couldn't be happier," Luke said flatly.

"See, I told you you'd have fun."

***

"Mr. Danes," the real estate agent greeted him, a wide smile on her face. "I'm so glad you decided to take another look. Oh, and this must be your wife," she continued, extending her hand to Lorelai. "Hello, I'm Mary."

Luke started to protest, but Lorelai shot him a look and shook Mary's hand. "Yep, that's me. Mrs. Danes. Mrs. Dana Danes."

"Well, it's a pleasure," Mary smiled. "Shall we take a look at the apartment?"

"I think we shall," Lorelai answered, following behind Mary as she led them down the hall.

"What are you doing?" Luke whispered irritably, hurrying to walk beside her.

"Couple discount," Lorelai responded.

"There's no such thing."

"Oh, there is!"

"Fine. And the fake name?"

"Well, I don't want her to be able to track me down after we defraud her."

"Great. That's really great," Luke muttered.

"C'mon, Luke, Jess _is_ a 'pretty boy', but he can't exactly pass for me. Okay, maybe with a designer wig and the right amount of makeup, but it'd still be—"

"I'm leaving," Luke interrupted, turning to head for the door.

"I'm kidding," Lorelai said, grabbing his arm. "I just like to see your face get all red. Oh, and the way the veins in your neck pop out like they actually want to strangle me on your behalf…"

"Maybe I should let them."

"Married life makes you really surly."

"We're not married."

"Oh, right. I forgot. You're always surly," Lorelai smiled. They waited as Mary unlocked the door to the apartment and then stepped inside. "Oh, wow!" Lorelai exclaimed, glancing around. "You weren't kidding when you said it was gorgeous."

"I never said that," Luke disagreed. "I never said that," he repeated, looking at Mary.

"He couldn't stop gushing. It was like he'd finally found somewhere that felt like home. Didn't it, sweetie?"

"I never said that."

"He hides his emotions, but deep down, he's all warm and fuzzy right now."

"That's what we like to hear," Mary said happily. "Feel free to take a look around if you like."

Lorelai nodded and wandered around the apartment with Luke trailing behind her. After she'd walked through the last room, she turned to him. "This apartment is great."

"It's too big."

"No such thing. Have you _seen_ 'MTV Cribs'?"

"I don't need two bathrooms."

"Need I remind you of Jess's undying love affair with his hair gel?"

"I like being on the bottom floor."

"Huh. I never pegged you as someone who likes to be on the bottom," Lorelai teased. Getting no response from Luke, she frowned. "It's a lot more fun when Rory's around to say 'Dirty!' The top floor is quieter."

"Fine. Then you tell me what's wrong with it."

"Nothing, Luke. It's great. It's light and airy. It's got good windows but not too many so that the sun bakes you in the afternoon. You're close to work, which I know has become a _huge_ concern for you."

"I don't know…"

"C'mon, Luke, you and Jess will kill each other if you stay in that place of yours."

"Yeah, but who knows how long he's even gonna be here."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"No, but you never know."

"No, you don't, but I think his mom sending his stuff is a pretty good sign."

"And even if he does stay, it'll only be another year, and then he'll go off to college or Attica or whatever, and it'll just be me again."

"As appealing as that idea sounds, you can't let the future decide what you're going to do now. Live in the moment! This apartment is great."

"It's not awful," Luke reluctantly admitted.

"You like it."

"It's okay."

"You like it," Lorelai sang.

"Stop."

"Fine. Let's go find Mary."

***

"Okay," Mary said as they stood outside the apartment office. "I'll just pass your application on to the owner. As soon as we get his approval, we can move on to the next step."

"Sounds great," Lorelai agreed, glancing at Luke. He looked pleased. "So you'll call and let us know?"

"As soon as I know," Mary nodded. "Oh, in fact," she said, glancing at the main door. "What perfect timing! Here comes the owner now!"

Lorelai and Luke both glanced towards the door and saw Taylor Doose approaching.

"Where?" Lorelai asked, looking past Taylor for a sign of the owner.

"Right there," Mary answered. "Hi Taylor!"

"Taylor?" Lorelai and Luke said at the same time.

"Luke, I was just at the diner looking for you," Taylor greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," Luke retorted, shooting daggers at Lorelai as if this were all her fault.

"Don't be silly," Mary chimed in. "Mr. and Mrs. Danes are applying for an apartment."

Taylor eyed them suspiciously. "Mr. and Mrs. Danes?"

"Oh, yeah, it's just a little joke," Lorelai said quickly, dismissing the discussion with a wave of her hand. "So you own this place, huh?" she asked, changing the subject.

"For two months now," he said proudly.

"Wow. I had no idea," Lorelai remarked.

"I own ten of Stars Hollow's magnificent residential properties."

"Wow."

"And now, after the proper investigation into his financial and personal history, it seems I may be able to count Luke Danes among my tenants."

"No, you won't," Luke said abruptly.

"What?" Mary asked.

"Rip up the application."

"But, Mr. Danes…"

"Rip it up! Now!" Luke said firmly, emphasizing the veracity of his statement with a downward jab of his finger.

"Mrs. Danes?" Mary said desperately, looking to Lorelai for help.

"Do what the man says."

"But…" Mary hedged.

"Now, Luke, don't be so hasty," Taylor reprimanded. "My properties are ideal homes. The level of quality control is unsurpassed. For example, at all my properties, we measure the grass before, during, and after mowing to attain a perfect inch and a half height, which is both pleasing to the eye and good for the grass. In addition, I perform routine safety inspections of each apartment on the premises to ensure…"

"Rip it up," Luke said again.

"But," Mary hesitated, thinking about her lost commission.

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched the application from her hand and tore it into tiny pieces.

"Well, now that was uncalled for," Taylor said, looking at Luke with clear disapproval.

"Believe me, it was called for," Luke answered as he headed for the door.

"Luke, wait! I still need to speak with you," Taylor called.

"It can wait."

"Well, in that case, I'll just petition the town council about that sign of yours."

Luke paused and turned back to Taylor. "What are you talking about?"

***

"I can't believe Taylor owns multiple apartment buildings in this town, and I had no idea," Lorelai stated, shaking her head in disbelief.

"He's going to buy the flower shop."

"I know. He's quite the entrepreneur."

"The flower shop right next door to the diner."

"I heard."

"And turn it into a collectible plate store."

"Luke, the conversation is moving forward. Try to keep up."

"All day, every day, he'll be in there. Right next door. With those obnoxious plates. Mocking me."

"Don't worry, my pretty. I'm sure only the Wicked Witch plate will mock you."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny. I mean, of all the apartments."

"I can't let this happen," Luke mumbled to himself.

"We could go on a treasure hunt for One-Eyed Willy's fortune. How do you feel about Baby Ruths?"

"That's not such a bad idea."

"A fan of the Baby Ruth," Lorelai observed, nodding thoughtfully. "You do realize it has sugar and calories, don't you?"

"I have some money saved up," Luke continued, ignoring her.

"What?"

"I'm going to buy the building," he said matter-of-factly.

"What? What building? The apartment building?"

"The flower shop."

"Luke, that's insane."

"What have you been saying all day? Seize the day! Follow the dream! Live in the moment!" he threw back at her.

"Ok, if you're quoting me, you've definitely lost it. And since when has owning a flower shop been your dream?"

"Since I found out Taylor was going to buy it."

"You don't even like flowers."

"I don't like Taylor."

"Yes, but not liking Taylor doesn't necessarily mean you should become a florist."

"We're going to the bank."

"The bank isn't open on Sundays."

"Kirk owes me a favor."

"A building costs a lot of money," Lorelai reminded him.

"Doesn't compare to what living next to Taylor could cost me."

"Okay, good point."

"So I should buy it?" 

"I didn't say that. Although…"

"Although what?" 

"It might not be such a bad investment."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, looking at her hopefully.

"Well, since Taylor owns most of the apartment buildings in town, it looks like you can't move. If you bought the flower shop, you could expand Luke's. Or you could rent the place out and make some extra money."

"That might work."

"Open your very own collectible plate store," Lorelai continued. "Or not…" she said quickly, seeing the annoyed look on his face. "But, before you decide, I think you should wait a day. Consider your options."

"I really hate collectible plates," Luke repeated.

"I know," Lorelai said sympathetically. "Everyone knows the only collectibles worth getting are the dolls."

A look of horror flickered across Luke's face, and he looked at her desperately. "Please tell me that's a joke."

"If only I could…" 

***

"So, he's buying it?" Rory asked.

"I think he is," Lorelai admitted. "I tried to talk some sense into him, but I think I may have talked him into buying it instead."

"You never have been Ms. Practical."

"Hey, I resent that."

"You would've starved me for a pair of new shoes."

"That isn't true," Lorelai disagreed.

"It isn't?"

"They'd have to be boots before I'd even consider depriving you of food."

"Oh. Right."

"So, how was the movie?"

"Exactly like it was the first twenty times I saw it."

"They really need to make that into a 'choose your own adventure'. Spice it up a bit."

"You're telling me!" Rory agreed.

"But you had fun?"

"Yeah, I had fun."

"And Dean?"

"Dean is just fine. I apologized with Sour Patch Kids, so he had no choice but to forgive me."

"Try to remember the power of the Sour Patch Kids the next time you and I fight."

"I'll do my best," Rory promised, nodding seriously. 

"But if you don't pick out the green ones first, I'm changing the locks," Lorelai warned her, rising to grab the now-ringing phone.

"But it's so cute how your face contorts," Rory teased.

Lorelai glared at her and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"The kitchen faucet is dripping," a very familiar, very French voice whined across the line.

"Ooh, this sounds like a dirty phone call," Lorelai crooned, mouthing the word 'Michel' to her daughter.

"Very funny. You know who this is."

"Well, the voice does sound familiar. Dad, is that you?" Lorelai teased.

"This is serious."

"Mom?"

"In two seconds, I will hang up this phone and allow the kitchen to flood. One…"

"Fine, Michel. What's wrong?"

"The kitchen faucet is dripping."

"Then, tighten it," Lorelai told him.

"With what?"

"Uh, a wrench, I guess."

"Impossible," Michel declared.

"Why?"

"I do not touch filthy tools."

"Wow, you're just leaving yourself wide open with that one."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Call the plumber."

"It's Sunday," Michel reminded her.

"Well, Frank owes us a favor. He'll come in."

"Frank _owed us a favor until the Plafferts caused their toilet to overflow during Monday Night Football. Frank no longer owes us a favor."_

"Damn those Plafferts!"

"Indeed," Michel agreed.

"Well, how urgent is it?"

"_Very urgent."_

"Is the faucet trying to outdo Old Faithful?"

"What is Old Faithful?" 

"A giant geyser in Yellowstone Park."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Is it shooting water all over the kitchen?" Lorelai asked, trying to remain patient.

"No, I suppose not."

"Is there any water on the floor?"

"None that I can see."

"Is there any water in the sink?"

"A little."

"Define 'a little'."

 "There are drops."

"Michel, I'm pretty sure this can wait until tomorrow."

"No, it cannot," Michel disagreed.

"Why not?"

"Because I will quit."

"Over a faucet?"

"All it does is drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. The noise echoes through my ears. It will drive me mad."

"The kitchen is all the way across the room and behind a wall."

"I can still hear it."

Lorelai sighed. "Do you want me to come to the Inn and fix the faucet?"

"What a _wonderful idea," Michel drawled. "Why didn't I think of that?"_

"This dripping better sound like a sonic boom."

"Oh, it does."

"I'll be right there," Lorelai assured him. She hung up the phone and glanced at her daughter.

"Apparently, the faucet is dripping, and it's going to drive Michel mad."

"We wouldn't want that," Rory smirked.

"I have to go to the Inn."

"That's okay. I still have a little homework to do, so I wouldn't have been much company anyway."

Lorelai sighed sadly and dragged herself to the door. "You won't even let me pretend I have something better to do."

"You know," Rory remarked. "You never did get to try that rubber band on the faucet trick. Today might just be your day."

Lorelai's ears perked up, and she looked at her daughter. An evil grin slowly spread across her face.  "I've heard rubber bands can actually fix drippy faucets."

"Huh. Better give that a try," Rory smiled.

"I think I just might," Lorelai said slyly. "Don't study too hard."

"I won't," Rory promised, watching as her mother hurried out the door and practically ran to the jeep.

Amused, Rory shook her head and stood up to head to her room. She was about halfway there when the phone rang. She walked over and picked up the receiver. "Michel, she's on her way."

"Rory?"

"Lane?" 

"Oh, thank God it's you! I've been trying to call you for the past couple of hours, but I kept getting your answering machine. I couldn't exactly leave a message because your mom might hear it, so I just kept trying. But I was worried your mom would answer, and I wouldn't know what to say."

"You could've tried 'Is Rory there?'"

"Oh, yeah. I guess I didn't think of that," Lane admitted, pausing.

Rory smiled. "What's wrong?"

"Have you been in your room yet?"

"No, I just got home a little while ago."

"I'm so sorry," Lane apologized.

"Why?" Rory asked as she hurried to her room and looked around. "It looks fine."

"Have you checked the closet?"

"No," Rory said. She walked over and pulled open the closet door. "It looks the same."

"Exactly," Lane sighed.

"I don't think I understand."

"Your books, Rory. I couldn't get them."

"Oh."

"I tried, but you were right. They _were_ really heavy. I personally think that they're immovable, but then Jess went into this whole lecture about how there's no such thing as immovable, or irresistible apparently. It was completely bizarre. But anyway, I couldn't lift them. I'm so sorry."

"You talked to Jess?" Rory asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah, sort of. I guess. Is there any way we can still get those books?"

"U-huh," Rory said, a little distracted. "I'll just go get them. My mom had to go take care of a drippy faucet at the Inn, so she should be gone for a while."

"Oh, thank God! I was so afraid I ruined the plan again."

"You didn't," Rory assured her. "You've been great."

"Thanks, Rory. Okay, I'll let you go get your books. Remember, lift with the knees."

"Thanks, Lane."

"Bye."

"Bye." She hung up the phone and, frowning, stared into her closet as though silently willing the box to appear. It didn't. Admitting defeat with a sigh, she grabbed a sweater and headed out the door.

***

When Rory arrived at the diner, she found a good-sized rock propping the front door open. The air had gotten warmer as the day had gone on, and a light, evening breeze carried the smell of fresh flowers and newly revived grass throughout town. A lot of people were welcoming spring in through their open doors; apparently, Luke and Jess were no different.

Soundlessly, Rory climbed the steps and peered in through the open doorway. Jess was sitting at one of the diner tables, reading a book. The place was deserted. The closed door not obstructing her view for once, Rory paused and watched him, fascinated by the way his fingers curled gracefully around the edges of the book, holding it open. Slowly, she moved her gaze from his hands to his face, trailing the angle of his jaw until her eyes came to rest on the slight smile he didn't know he should be hiding. She immediately wondered what he was reading, but the book was positioned in such a way that she couldn't see the cover. Finishing a page, Jess moved his hand to turn to the next and, at the same time, out of habit, glanced towards the door.

"Hey," she said softly, trying but failing to sound casual.

"Hey."

"I came to get my box," she explained as she walked the rest of the way into the diner.

"Good luck with that. Lane wasn't very successful."

"I know. That's why I came."

"Huh."

"Anyway," Rory continued, shifting uncomfortably. "Don't let me interrupt your book. I'll just grab it and get out of your way." Without waiting for his response, she hurried past him towards the box.

Jess closed the book and shifted in his chair to watch her. She knelt down and began shifting the books into a level surface inside the box. Twice, she tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture.

"You're nervous," he stated.

"What?" she answered, not looking at him. "No, I'm not."

"Well, it _is_ a lot harder to avoid me when the diner is empty."

She glanced at him. "What are you talking about? I'm not avoiding you."

"If you say so."

"I'm not."

"Then I must be imagining things," Jess sarcastically conceded.

"So what if I am avoiding you? You stole my bracelet."

"I didn't _steal_ your bracelet. You dropped it, and I picked it up. I guess next time, I'll just leave anything you drop right where it is, and it can be lost forever."

"Fine," Rory said immaturely, turning back to the box.

"Do you really think you're going to be able to lift that?"

"I carried it yesterday, didn't I?"

"No, I carried that box yesterday. Yours was a lot lighter."

"I think I can handle it," she assured him. Satisfied with the book arrangement, she wrapped her fingers under the box and stood. As soon as the box was off the ground, it rubbed against her already-swollen and bruised arms, causing her to wince and set it back down.

Jess was about to make a sarcastic comment, when he saw her push her sleeves up and rub her arms. Catching a glimpse of mottled purple, he stood and walked over to her. "What the hell happened?" he asked, lifting one of her arms to examine the bruise.

"The other box beat me up," Rory said honestly, causing Jess to smirk slightly.

"Do they hurt?"

"No, not really," Rory lied. Jess ran his fingertips over the bruise, and she winced again, causing him to give her a skeptical look. "Okay, maybe a little," she admitted. 

Jess nodded knowingly and turned back to her arm, trying to think of some way to help. When he was a kid, and he hurt himself, his mom had always kissed his bruises or his cuts, and they'd instantly felt better. He knew now that it was something all parents did… some kind of psychological trick, but back then, he'd thought it was pretty magical, like with one touch she could take the pain away. It was one of the few things Liz used to do right. She'd burn the toast and drop dishes as soon as she pulled them from the cupboard, but she'd always been able to make the pain stop. The neighbors used to think it was adorable when little, four-year-old Jess would toddle over to his mom after falling and repeat, "Kiss it! Kiss it!" over and over until she did. But, Jess remembered, one day, her special healing magic just disappeared. 

Jess was five at the time – it was a few months after Jimmy had left – just long enough for him to realize that his dad wasn't just at the store or away on business. He was gone. Jess was tearing through the apartment at lightning speed, so focused on the way the wind felt against his face that he didn't realize he wasn't paying attention until he ran headfirst into a wall. He'd fallen to the ground, dazed, tears brimming but not yet spilling. Liz had seen the collision and quickly called him over, pulling him up into the comfort of her lap. She'd examined his head for any serious injuries, then, smiling reassuringly, she'd placed the gentlest of kisses on his forehead. When she'd pulled away, Jess had seen the sad look on her face, and he couldn't understand why it was there. She didn't have to worry; he was going to be okay. Seeing the small frown on her son's face and the look of concern nestled deeply in his beautiful, brown eyes, Liz forced another smile, but, without warning, a single tear escaped her eyes and tumbled quickly down her cheek. She'd furiously wiped it away, but it had been too late. It was at that moment that Jess realized his pain wasn't gone. It had just shifted to a different place – a place deep inside him. No matter how many more kisses Liz gave him – no matter how many girls he kissed– the pain never went away. 

But now, feeling Rory's soft, warm skin in his hands, he looked at the bruise on her arm and thought, maybe, if he just took a chance, a kiss could finally take his pain away. 

He let her arm slip from his grasp.

"You should put ice on that," he said carefully.

"Okay," Rory answered quietly. "Thanks."

Jess nodded.

Rory paused as if weighing what she should say, then said quickly, "And thank you for picking up the bracelet. I'm glad it isn't lost forever."

"You know, if you aren't careful, _you're_ gonna get lost in there."

"In where?" Rory asked, confused.

"That web of lies you're busy weaving."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rory dismissed, kneeling beside the box again.

"You lie to Dean, you lie to your mom, and, judging from Luke's quiz this morning about whether or not I know who this box belongs to, I suspect you've been lying to him too."

"What about you? You lie to everyone," Rory accused, standing back up.

"If you lie enough, you reach a point where you can't even figure out the truth anymore. You're better than that."

"So are you."

Jess shrugged and looked away. There was a long silence; the only sound in the diner was the flapping of the blinds in the wind.

After a while, Jess turned back to her. "I need to finish cleaning up."

Rory nodded, not wanting to end things this way again. The last thing she wanted was to have to avoid him again tomorrow. "What were you reading when I came in?"

"Oscar Wilde."

"_The Importance of Being Ernest?"_

"Is there anything else?" Jess asked rhetorically.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Rory smiled. "But you should try _Salome. It's his attempt at a tragedy."_

"Okay," Jess agreed. "Are you really going to be able to handle that?" he asked, referring to the box.

"I'll manage," Rory said firmly.

"Okay then," Jess accepted. He walked around the counter and, grabbing a rag, started wiping down the counter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rory pick up the box, wince, and start towards the door.

"Hold on," he called after her. She sent him a look that clearly said that if she stopped now, she might not be able to make it home with the box. "Just one second," he promised. He turned around to face the back counter and started to scoop something into a plastic bag. Then, wrapping a clean cloth around the bundle, he walked around the counter and set it on top of the box. "For your arms."

Rory glanced at the bag and recognized the lumped contents as ice. "Thanks," she said, smiling gratefully.

"Try not to permanently maim yourself."

"I'll do my best," Rory assured him before stumbling out the door. Jess watched to make sure she at least made it to the sidewalk, then, kicking the rock out of the way, he closed the diner door.

***

Making it home at last, Rory dropped the box on the porch and pulled open the front door. She tried not to think about her aching arms as she slid the box across the wood, through the house, and into her closet. Sighing, she grabbed the ice from the box and walked towards her bed, melodramatically collapsing on top of it as soon as it was within reach. She lay completely still for a while, then, no longer out of breath, she pulled herself to an upright position and dragged her textbook onto her lap. Immediately, her arms began to throb, so she threw the book aside and snatched up the bag of ice. Holding it to her arm, she felt instant relief. After a few minutes, she pulled the ice away and examined her arm, her eyes falling on the leather bracelet. She settled back against the pillows and ran her fingers over it, looking again at its imperfections. Slowly, her eyes journeyed away from the bracelet and up her arm to the place where Jess's hand had held her steady while he tied the leather around her wrist. Then, they moved a little higher, remembering how he'd absentmindedly stroked her skin while examining the bruise on her arm. Soon, her eyes drifted shut.

***

Outside, by the gazebo, under the sprawling tree, the town troubadour strummed his guitar, watching couples strolling home, hand-in-hand, across the grass while the lights in town went out one by one. Softly, he sang, the words floating along on the spring breeze and vanishing into the night.

"Funny how I feel

More myself with you

Than anybody else

That I ever knew.

I hear it in your voice,

See it in your face.

You've become the memory

I can't erase."

***


	13. Three's Company, Four's a Party

**Defending Bjork  
Chapter 13: Three's Company, Four's a Party**

**_Disclaimer_**_: As always, ASP, et al. created the show and the characters. I just play around with them now and then. This chapter contains some borrowed dialogue. All credit for that goes to the brilliant people. All hatred for the rest goes to me._

**_A/N_**_: Chapter 13 for your reading pleasure… I hope. Also, some of you might not know that I started another fic, 'Road Map.' I'd love it if you gave it a read. Thanks to my sister for her kind help and to all of you who encourage me. Lastly, this chapter is dedicated to those of you who continue to keep the Lit love alive. You know who you are. Hey, look. A brief author's note! Go figure. Review if the spirit moves you. ~Becka_

"I feel feverish. Do I look feverish?" Lorelai asked, looking to Rory for sympathy as they walked home from Luke's.

"No, you don't look feverish," Rory replied matter-of-factly without even glancing at her mother.

"Yes, I do. My face is flushed. My forehead is practically on fire. Here, feel," she urged, grabbing Rory's hand and holding it to her forehead.

"You're lukewarm," Rory assured her before pulling her hand away.

"Lukewarm? What is that a symptom of? Spotted Mountain Rocky Fever?"

"Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever," Rory corrected. "And it's a _fever, so no."_

"Bursitis?"

"Bursitis is an inflammation around tendons and bone, like in your knee. It has nothing to do with feeling lukewarm."

"Fine, but now that you mention it, my knee is a little achy," Lorelai said, adopting an exaggerated limp.

Rory smiled. "You look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame when you do that."

"I cannot believe you're picking on your bursitis-ridden mother."

"People are staring at you."

"Let them stare!" Lorelai declared dramatically.

"Now they're pointing and laughing."

Lorelai glanced around, momentarily distracted from her limp. "They are not."

"A-ha! But suddenly you're walking normally. Who'd have guessed the cure for bursitis is exactly the same as the cure for hiccups?"

"My throat hurts," Lorelai complained, rubbing her neck.

"Your throat does not hurt."

"I'm looking it up in the medical guide when I get home."

"Fine, but no matter how hard you look, you'll never find anything convincing."

"Spa-itis," Lorelai firmly stated.

"Excuse me?"

"Lethargy, queasy stomach, pounding headache, nervous tremors, suicidal tendencies, and the urge to yell out Tourettes-like obscenities at any and all moments," Lorelai explained.

"You really think Grandma is gonna fall for that?"

"I wouldn't even be acting."

"Mom…"

"Let's go back to the diner. Maybe, if I position myself just right, I can be standing under the ceiling when it completely collapses."

"Or maybe you'll have a good time," Rory suggested.

"Two days… with my mother… at a spa? Highly unlikely."

"Fruity drinks; meditation music; cute guys with nice, firm hands giving you massages…"

"What do you know about that?" Lorelai teased, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I'm trying to be helpful here," Rory reminded her.

"Fruity drinks, which my mother will declare either too fruity or not drinky enough; meditation music that will be drowned out by her incessant chatter; cute guys with nice, firm hands who will hate me because my mother will order them around mercilessly… or even worse, she'll take a fancy to one and set me up in an arranged marriage."

"You're going, and you _will_ have a good time!" Rory ordered.

"Easy for you to say."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, let's see… while I'm having Friday morning breakfast _with my mother, Friday afternoon lunch __with my mother, Friday night dinner __with my mother, Saturday morning breakfast __with…"_

"Not getting any younger," Rory prodded.

"I will have to eat no less than five meals with my mother while you get a Friday night dinner-free weekend."

"So?"

"So, of course you want me to go! You don't even care about your mother's well-being. Her delicate feelings. Her mental stability. All you care about is your impending freedom."

"Fine. I'll support your story of spa-itis. Happy?"

"Ah," Lorelai dismissed. "You're right; she'll never fall for it."

"Nope."

"So what are you gonna do with your night of freedom while your loving mother suffers through the human equivalent of the rack? Make me jealous; I know you want to."

"I haven't decided yet. I'm thinking either laundry or homework. Or maybe I'll mix things up and do both."

"Wow! Don't make yourself dizzy," Lorelai teased. "Hey, did you know you have ceiling in your hair?"

"No," Rory muttered, shaking her head and running her hands through her hair. "Two seconds without the umbrella…"

"Ooh, hey, that gives me an idea. What if I just sprinkle ceiling dust all over my head and _tell_ my mother I got hit by debris? That way, I can get out of the weekend without actually giving myself a concussion."

"She'd still make you go."

"She would, wouldn't she?" Lorelai sighed. "Hey, isn't that Lane?" she asked, gesturing towards the figure darting between trees around the Kim residence.

Rory squinted. "It could be Lane."

"I'm pretty sure that's Lane."

"I'm gonna go see what's going on," Rory said, turning down Lane's street. "I'll meet you at home."

***

"Lane?" Rory stage-whispered as she walked down the street towards the house.

"Shhh…" Lane reprimanded from her hunched position beside a fence.

Rory hurried over and ducked down as well. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"I'm addicted."

"To love?" Rory asked, confused.

"No. Well, maybe, but not at the moment."

"Coffee?"

"No, that's you."

"Vicodin?" 

"Very funny."

"Should I keep guessing?"

"Cookies," Lane hissed.

"Huh?"

"Cookies. Luke's cookies. I'm addicted to Luke's cookies. Oh my God," she exclaimed as quietly as possible, her eyes wide. "Maybe he laces them with cocaine. Do you think Luke spikes his cookies?"

"Luke doesn't spike his cookies. Chocolate can be addictive though."

"But I get the oatmeal raisin ones."

"Then maybe he does spike them," Rory teased.

"This is awful," Lane said despondently.

"I don't think you're really addicted to Luke's cookies," Rory assured her.

"So sneaking around the neighborhood and crouching nervously outside my parents' house doesn't make me look like a cookie junkie?"

"Okay, it's a little weird… why are we crouching again?"

"Because I have to wait for the right moment to sneak back into the house."

"Oh. Okay. How long does that usually take?"

"Well, I've been dashing from window to window and hiding behind bushes for about forty-five minutes now. At this point, I'm guessing it should be no more than fifteen minutes," Lane assured her.

"I think I need to stage an intervention."

"You'd do that?" Lane asked, looking at her hopefully.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Are you serious?"

Rory smiled. "Not about the intervention, but my mom's going to be out of town, and it's been a long time since you and I hung out without it involving plotting or lying of some kind."

"That's true. But don't you have plans with Dean or something?"

"Nope."

"But I know you like your alone time, and it's not often your mom is out of town."

"How are you at folding laundry?"

"Thanks to Martha Stewart, I've even mastered the fitted sheet," Lane said proudly.

"So you'll come over then?"

"Yeah, definitely," Lane agreed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "That is, assuming my addiction doesn't lead to house arrest."

"You really think you're addicted to Luke's cookies?" Rory asked.

"Actually, I think it's probably more about the thrill of the escape," Lane conceded. "But the cookies don't hurt. Ooh, I think I see an opening!"

"Better hurry. I'll see you tomorrow," Rory said quickly. 

Lane smiled and hurried towards the front door, soundlessly opening it and slipping inside.

***

"Purple dress or red dress?" Rory asked as she packed Lorelai's bag the next morning.

"Neither. If I'm remembering correctly, the formal spa dress code involves strait jackets and only strait jackets."

"Fine. Purple strait jacket or red strait jacket?"

"Purple," Lorelai chose, cradling the phone receiver between her ear and shoulder.

"Now was that so hard?"

"Yes."

"I see your maturity level is rising above last night's."

"You know, I have it on good authority that the thermometer over a hot light bulb trick actually works."

"No, it doesn't," Rory disagreed.

"How do you know?"

"I tried it in second grade."

"What? How did I not know this?"

"Because I figured out that it wasn't going to work before I claimed to be sick," Rory explained. "I stood up and got dressed for school, and you never knew the difference."

"You were going to pretend to be sick to get out of school, and I missed it?"

"Yep."

"My one opportunity to encourage your delinquency, and you didn't even give me the chance? Why were you gonna skip?"

"Nothing important was going on that day, so I figured I'd give it a try."

"Okay, honey, see, the rule is you're supposed to skip school _because you have a test."_

"Rules shmules," Rory dismissed, tossing another blouse into the suitcase. "Are you still on hold?"

"No, I've just been ignoring the nice man on the other line, so I could talk to you instead," Lorelai said sarcastically.

"I appreciate that."

"You always come first, babe. Oh, hello?" Lorelai said, repositioning the phone. "Yes, I'm still here. Right. Right. So then we're all confirmed. Uh, great. Thanks so much for your help. Okay, bye." Lorelai hung up the phone. "Yeeessss!"

"That was an evil yes."

"Not an evil yes. It's a 'yes, I'm pretty, but hello, I'm smart' kind of yes," Lorelai clarified.

"Oh, my mistake."

"So here's the deal – I go into my facial just as my mother is finishing her salt glow, which will end ten minutes after I've hit my scalp treatment which puts me in the watsu massage pool at least six minutes into her back facial. Uh, in fact, the day is so well-planned, I won't see her until dinner which will be cut tragically short by the food poisoning I plan to contract."

"You are twelve and disgusting."

"I am trapped and desperate."

"You really think you can avoid Grandma the entire weekend?"

"Must I remind you that you're the one who refused to let me come down with spa-itis?"

"A fictional disease."

"Fictional but brilliant. So Lane's coming over tonight?"

"Yes, she is," Rory said happily.

"I think it's really great that you two are gonna hang out. It's been too long since you guys had a sleepover."

"I have missed watching Lane overcompensate on the sugar consumption and go into hyper drive," Rory agreed. "Remember how you used to make her run around the house to burn off the energy?"

"How could I forget? Man, she was fast. Like a Flash Gordon blur, that one. Try to get a picture of that this time, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Rory said, giggling.

"So what time do the male strippers arrive?"

"It's a slumber party not a wild bachelorette bash," Rory reminded her.

"Pish-posh! There's always room for strippers."

"Just like Jello."

"Ooh, or strippers in jello."

"Okay, bad image."

"I always take that extra step into the vulgar, don't I?"

"It's a gift," Rory stated. "You're all packed."

"Okay, so, no strippers. But there will be kegs and smashed windows and table-dancing, correct?"

"Depends on how much candy Lane has."

"Stuff her silly. I'm gonna need some serious entertainment after this weekend."

The sound of a car honking drifted in through the window.

"Speaking of which, I think Grandma's here."

"What's she honking for?" Lorelai asked, walking to the window. "She hates honking. She calls it a mechanical bodily function. Ugh, geez."

Rory hurried over and looked out the window at the limousine waiting below. "Oh, cool!"

"I just know I'm going to regret this," Lorelai muttered, picking up her suitcase and heading out the door.

Rory smiled and followed her downstairs.

***

"So, surprise, surprise, Madeline and Louise have dates tonight," Paris abruptly informed Rory, startling her from her chemistry assignment.

"And?" Rory asked.

"And I suppose that you have big Friday night plans also?" 

"Well, kind of," Rory admitted.

"Perfect!" Paris exclaimed. "And the fact that I'm seeing my entire Harvard career slip away apparently is of no interest to anyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"I got an A-minus, okay?"

"So?"

"What do you mean, so? I got an A-_minus. I have never gotten an A-minus," Paris explained, upset. "I just can't focus lately. Things are so weird at my house. My dad finally figured out exactly how much it was gonna cost him to divorce my mom, so now he's back, and it's bad enough that I wasted all that time crunching the numbers with him, but now that he's back, they're fighting and redecorating. The place is a mess. I need help."_

"Oh."

"I offer a desperate plea for help, and all you can say is 'oh'?"

"Oh boy?" Rory cheekily offered.

"Can you study tonight or not?" Paris asked, clearly unamused.

Rory hesitated, prepared to say no. However, her mouth seemed to have its own ideas. "I guess," she found herself offering. "For a little while. Maybe."

"Your enthusiasm is moving," Paris said flatly.

"It's just that I'm sort of having a slumber party tonight."

"Like a seven year old? That kind of slumber party? So you're gonna eat cupcakes and make balloon animals while my future floats away with the helium? How many people are going to be at this preadolescent blowout?"

Rory sighed. "Just my friend Lane and I."

"You're claiming to have plans when you can't even muster up a full-fledged slumber party? What? Mary-Kate and Ashley were busy?"

"For someone who wants my help, you sure don't seem like it."

A conflicted look came over Paris's face as she debated the benefits of ridicule over those of groveling. "Look, I'm sorry. Like I said, everything's a mess."

"It's okay," Rory said unconvincingly.

Paris sighed. "And I shouldn't make fun of your slumber party. It's not like I know anything about them."

"You've never been to a slumber party?" Rory asked in disbelief.

"Well, I only got invited to one. When I was eight and a half. It was Sunshine Rhoades' birthday, and her dad was a business acquaintance of my dad, so she was pretty much obligated to invite me. They were going to go roller-skating, but I didn't know how. When Sunshine found out, she knew her mom would make her change the party plans, so she uninvited me. Of course, that didn't stop her from telling everyone about my skating inadequacies. After that, I was blackballed from the social circuit. By the time I made it back in, the days of slumber parties were over. But, you know, whatever. Who cares about slumber parties anyway, right?"

Rory hesitated again, not quite believing what she was about to say.  The words practically burned her tongue as they left her mouth. "Paris, do you want to come over to my house and hang out with me and Lane tonight? I'll help you with chemistry for a while, and…"

"Really?" Paris interrupted. "You don't mind?"

Rory sighed. "Bring a sleeping bag."

Paris smiled briefly, but then regained her composure. "What time should I be there?"

"Five-thirty?"

"Sounds good," Paris agreed, battling with the smile. "I'll see you then." She walked away, and Rory turned back to her chemistry assignment, a small smile flickering across her own face as well.

***

"Wow, your lung capacity certainly has improved," Rory remarked as she pulled away from kissing Dean, her arms still slung loosely around his neck.

"Well, I've been playing a lot more basketball lately," Dean explained.

"Yet another reason to continue the fight to keep physical education in schools."

Dean smiled and drew her into another kiss. "So, tonight," he mumbled against her lips.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking," he continued, kissing her again.

"Yes?"

"Since your mother's gonna be gone."

"Mm-hmm," Rory muttered, only half-listening to what he was saying.

"Maybe I'd come over," Dean finished.

"Oh," Rory said abruptly, pulling away.

"What?"

"I can't tonight," she explained.

"Why not?"

"Lane's coming over."

"So we'll hang out with Lane," Dean compromised, fairly confident that Lane would duck out as soon as she realized she was a third wheel.

"But Paris is coming too."

"Paris?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah."

"Paris, as in Chilton Paris."

"Uh-huh."

"The Paris you don't like?"

"I never said I didn't like Paris."

"Yeah, you did," Dean stated.

"Okay, at one point, in the past, a long time ago, I _may_ have disliked Paris, but it turns out she's not so bad. Sure, she can be abrasive. And condescending. And she has little to no regard for people's feelings. But if you look closely, on a good day, deep down, she can be a nice person."

Dean gave his girlfriend a skeptical look.

"She was lonely, and she needs help with her chemistry," Rory explained.

"You're too nice, you know that?" Dean said, disappointed.

"Are you mad?"

"How can I be mad at you for being nice? It's who you are."

"Well, no matter what, tomorrow, the whole day is about you," Rory assured him. "From morning 'til night."

"Do you mean that?" 

"Of course I mean it."

"Even if it means watching basketball?" Dean said cautiously.

"On TV?" Rory asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Nope, live and in person."

"You want to go to a basketball game?"

"No, I want you to come to _my_ basketball game."

"Oh," Rory said flatly.

"You don't wanna come," Dean frowned, removing his hands from her waist.

"No, no, I want to come," Rory reassured him. To prove her point, she gently took his hands and placed them back on her hips. But when she let go, he immediately let them drop back to his sides.

"If you don't want to, it's fine," Dean said sullenly. "I just figured since you've never been to one…"

"They're usually on Fridays," Rory reminded him. "I have Friday night dinner on Fridays."

"But this game is on a Saturday."

"So now I can go," Rory stated. 

"I'm starting as center."

"You're what?" Rory asked, confused.

"Starting as center," Dean repeated. "I'll be in the game. As center." 

Rory still looked confused.

"The guy in the middle who's in charge of getting the ball for the team when the referee drops it?"

"Oh!" Rory exclaimed. "You're gonna be that guy?"

"Yeah."

"Wow! That's… that's… congratulations."

"So you'll go?"

"Of course," Rory promised.

"Good," Dean smiled, placing his hands back on her waist. Pulling her close, he leaned in for a kiss.

"What time is it?" Rory interrupted, moving away before his lips reached hers.

Dean shifted and checked his watch. "Five."

"Lane's supposed to be at my house at five. I better go."

"She can't wait?" 

Rory smiled and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised again before turning to hurry to her house.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Dean mumbled, watching her go.

***

"Vanilla ice cream?" Lane read from the list she held in her hand.

Rory pulled open the freezer and peered inside. "Check."

"Chocolate ice cream?"

"Check."

"Whipped cream?"

Rory shut the freezer and opened the fridge. "Check."

"Chocolate sauce?"

"Check."

"Butterscotch?"

"Check."

"Hot fudge which, contrary to popular belief, _is _very different than chocolate sauce?"

"Check, and amen, sistah."

"Maraschino cherries?"

"Check."

"Pean—"

A knock on the door cut Lane off. Lane exchanged a look with Rory and looked down at the list again.

"Oops, I misread. Nut_case_."

"Check," Rory grinned, heading to the door to let Paris in.

A few minutes later, Rory re-entered the kitchen with Paris close behind her.

"Paris, I don't think you two have been formally introduced. This is my best friend, Lane Kim," Rory introduced. "Lane, this is Paris Gellar."

"Nice to meet you," Paris greeted, reaching out and shaking Lane's hand firmly as if they were about to go into business together.

"Yeah, you too," Lane smiled.

Paris gestured to the piece of paper in Lane's hand. "Is that the agenda?"

"The agenda?" Lane repeated, confused.

"For tonight. The party plans."

"Oh, no," Lane explained. "This is the sundae list."

"You made a list for Sunday? That's two days away. And people say _I'm Type A."_

"No… the _sundae_ list." Lane looked at the list and began reading. "Vanilla ice cream. Chocolate ice cream.  Whipped cream. Chocolate sauce."

"We're having sundaes?" Paris asked, sounding hopeful.

"And pretty much every other item on the list of the Top Ten Things You Should Never Eat If You Plan on Living to be Old and Grey."

"Like what?" Paris asked.

"Butter with popcorn," Lane began.

"Don't you mean popcorn with butter?"

"No," Lane stated firmly.

"You'll understand later," Rory chimed in.

"What else?" 

"Well, then there are the usual sleepover staples," Lane continued as she and Paris walked side-by-side into the living room. "Pizza, soda, cheese puffs, pixie sticks."

"Pixie sticks?" Paris repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Lane's eyes grew wide. "You've never had a pixie stick?"

"That makes me a freak, doesn't it?"

"It's nothing that can't be fixed," Lane assured her, smiling back at Rory who was trailing behind them.

***

Inside the diner, Jess stood beside a counter in the kitchen, shutting the tops of the full take-out containers in front of him. His eyes scanned the array of food, making sure he had everything. Bacon cheeseburgers. Onion rings. Cheese fries. French fries. Macaroni and cheese. BLT on wheat. Cookies. And on and on. Finally satisfied he hadn't left out any of her favorites, he began arranging them in a box. It was about half full before he heard the sound of the swinging door open and close.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, eyeing his nephew suspiciously.

Jess glanced up. "I'm putting _these_ packages," he began, holding one up for emphasis, "in _this box."_

"I can see that."

"Kind of redundant to ask then, huh?" Jess remarked.

Luke ignored him. "What's in the containers?"

"Well, this one," Jess said, holding up a smallish bag, "is LSD for little Timmy Smith down the street. I tried to convince him to start small… a cigarette, maybe a joint or two. But there's no talking the kid down when he's set his mind on something."

"Jess," Luke warned.

"And this one," Jess continued, lifting up another package, "is some crystal meth for…"

"It looks like French fries," Luke pointed out.

"Huh. So it does," Jess agreed, shoving the plastic container into the box. "I guess you haven't lost your eyesight after all."

"Do you ever give anyone a straight answer?"

Jess chuckled and shook his head. "You're the one asking me what's in a transparent container like you can't see for yourself."

"Who's the food for?"

"The elderly and disabled," Jess replied, smirking. 

"Like Meals on Wheels?"

"The helpless deserve to eat, Uncle Luke," Jess answered, adopting a serious tone.

"Fine. Who's getting a delivery?" Luke played along.

"Mrs. Wilson on Peach. Mr. Comee on Plum," Jess listed. "The Harper Sisters."

"You know I'm not buying this."

"Maybe not. But, if I remember right, you trust me," Jess reminded him, looking up at his uncle. "Unless that was just a line."

Luke looked conflicted for a moment. Then, accepting defeat, he sighed. "I meant what I said, but if I find out…"

"It's going to a good cause," Jess assured him, smirking again.

"I can only imagine," Luke mumbled. 

***

"So, to make a long story short, I will never eat Chinese again," Paris finished, bending her head back to pour the purple pixie stick sugar down her throat.

"Okay. Chinese is out," Rory accepted, crossing it off the list. "Sandeep's?" she offered.

"No way!" Lane exclaimed.

"What's Sandeep's?" Paris asked.

Lane's face scrunched up in distaste. "Indian food. Potentially lethal Indian food."

"Hey, Sandeep's is good!" Rory disagreed.

"Rory is their only customer," Lane explained. "Lucky for them, she's a big eater."

"Miss Patty loves Sandeep's."

"Correction: Miss Patty loves _Sandeep_," Lane reminded her. "The man, not the food."

"Fine. Sandeep's is off the list," Rory accepted, drawing a line through it. "So that leaves pizza."

"What kind of pizza?" Paris asked.  
"It took us a half hour to get this far," Lane complained. "I'm starving."

"Make another list," Paris ordered. Rory sighed and poised the pen over the sheet of paper. She was just about to scribble down the list of potential ingredients when the phone rang. Breathing a sigh of relief, she handed the paper and pen to Lane and leapt up to get it. "I'll eat anything. You two work it out," she ordered.

As Paris started barking out toppings, Rory shook her head and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Is he a fireman or a police officer?"

"There are no strippers," Rory stated, grinning despite herself.

"C'mon, Rory," Lorelai whined. "I'm trapped at the spa from hell with my mother. Indulge me."

"Fine, he's a fireman."

"Is he hot?" Lorelai chuckled. "Get it. Hot! 'Cuz he's a fireman."

"Indulgence over. How's the spa?"

"They put cucumbers in the water."

"Refreshing."

"Revolting," Lorelai clarified. "And they have no coffee."

"Uh-oh."

"You don't even know the half of it. Oh, and you know all of those things I said my mother would do."

"Complain, talk incessantly, arrange marriages," Rory listed.

"I underestimated her. It's like she doesn't even need to breathe… ever. And his name is Juan. You were right about the firm hands; it's just too bad they aren't covering his face."

"Awww… poor Juan," Rory cooed. "The only unattractive male masseuse on the face of the earth. At least he has you."

"Funny. So are you partying like it's 1999?"

"Paris is here."

"The whole city? I think I underestimated your ability to get down and boogie."

"Not Paris, France. Paris Gellar."

"So, at last, the wild carousing can begin," Lorelai quipped. "Why's Paris there?"

"She needed help with her chemistry."

"You're studying at a slumber party?"

"Actually, I think I managed to distract her from the studying. She's currently downing pixie sticks."

"That can't be good."

"A hyper Paris is a Paris to be feared," Rory agreed. "But she and Lane seem to be getting along."

"So you're having fun?"

"Definitely."

"I hate you," Lorelai joked.

"Give Grandma a chance."

"I need coffee."

"It'll be waiting for you when you get home."

The sound of the doorbell ringing drifted into the conversation. "Ooh, is that the stripper?" Lorelai asked. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"No strippers! I gotta go. Say 'hi' to Juan for me," Rory teased as she headed to the door. 

"Put a five in the fireman's g-string and tell him it's from Wanda. He'll know what you mean."

"Bye Mom," Rory chuckled.

"Have fun." 

Rory clicked off the phone and glanced at Lane and Paris. They were still sitting on the couch, arguing about pineapple's merits as if they hadn't even heard the doorbell. Smiling, she reached the door and pulled it open. 

"Delivery," Jess smirked, a Luke's Diner box in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" Rory asked, confused.

"Well, Luke figured since you're alone tonight that maybe you wouldn't have any food in the house, so he sent over a care package."

"Oh," Rory said, shifting uncomfortably. The sudden smell of the food only confirmed how hungry she was. Her stomach growled loudly.

Hearing it, Jess smiled. "Where should I put this?" he asked, walking past her into the house.

"Well…" Rory began.

"Kitchen?" he said, already heading that direction.

"Um… sure," Rory agreed. She followed him down the side hallway into the kitchen, completely forgetting that Lane and Paris were still in the living room.

Jess walked to a table, set the box down, and began removing the containers. 

"God, how much food is in there?" Rory asked. She watched as item after item was pulled from the box. "This could feed twelve."

"Excuse me, I've seen you eat," Jess said, smiling to himself as he remembered her victory at the pizza place.

"Fine, six," Rory accepted as she fought off a smile of her own.

"Yeah, well, he wanted you taken care of. He wasn't sure how long your mom was gonna be gone for."

"Just tonight."

"Oh, he didn't know that," Jess said casually.

"Well, now you can tell him."

"I will."

"So how come Caesar didn't bring this over?" Rory asked, growing suspicious. Things had been okay between her and Jess in the couple of weeks since the bracelet incident, but he'd still seemed distant, only rarely initiating conversation.

"I volunteered," Jess said, not immediately picking up on what she was implying.

"Why?"

"Just wanted to get out of the construction zone," Jess explained, his story already planned out and at the ready. "There's nothing but banging and yelling. That place gives me a headache."

"Oh," Rory accepted, trying not to sound disappointed.

Jess noticed her tone and smirked. "Why?" he asked, amused. "Did you think I wanted to come over here and see you?"

"No," Rory said quickly.

"Just needed some quiet," Jess clarified.

"Fine."

"That is all," he continued. 

"Got it."

"Clear my head."

"I understand," Rory nodded.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Jess asked, looking down at the food.

"Eventually."

"I've heard your stomach make those noises before. I'd suggest appeasing it before glass shatters."

"I think I'm a better judge of when I need to eat than you are," Rory said defensively. She didn't know why, but it suddenly made her mad that he knew her so well. Maybe because she usually had no clue what he was thinking or what any of his actions meant.

"It gets cold fast," Jess warned.

"I can heat it up."

"Reheated French fries really suck."

"Hm, they do suck," Rory agreed, hating to see them go to waste.

"Yeah, so, eat."

"Okay, I will." Rory paused and waited for him to go. The longer he stood there, the more uncomfortable it made her. He barely talked to her for two weeks, and now suddenly, he acted like nothing was weird between them. "You're still standing there," she said when he didn't move.

"I know. You didn't give me a tip."

"You want money?"

"No, I'll take a fry though," Jess compromised.

"Okay, yeah, have as much as you want," Rory said, just wanting to get rid of him.

"Okay, great." Jess moved to a nearby chair and began to remove his coat.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to eat."

"You're staying?" Rory croaked. Looking at him, she silently cursed the sudden re-emergence of those stupid stomach butterflies and their routine fluttering. She was mad at him. Mad at him. She repeated the mantra in her head.

"Didn't you just invite me?" Jess said innocently.

"No, I—"

"No, you told me to have all I wanted. That sounded invitation-like."

"You wanna stay here and eat?"

"Beats being at Luke's."

"But–"

"Rory, is it or is it not true that fennel seed can cause sudden convulsions?" Paris interrupted, walking into the kitchen. She paused. "Do I smell foo—" Noticing Jess at the table, she cut herself off. "Where did he come from?"

"I rang the doorbell," Jess said, clearly annoyed. He looked at Rory. "Too much food, huh?"

"I didn-" Rory began, her face flushing as she realized she'd completely forgotten about the slumber party.

"Jess?" Lane exclaimed, walking up behind Paris, her eyes wide. "Did you call him?" she directed at Rory.

"No, I didn't call him," Rory said quickly. "He just showed up."

"The mother ship just beamed him down?" Paris asked.

"I rang the doorbell," Jess repeated.

Paris shot Rory a suspicious look. "Do you always have co-ed slumber parties?"

"He isn't here for the party."

"You're having a slumber party?" Jess asked.

Lane walked over and sniffed the food. "Oh my God, this smells good!"

"Is he staying?" Paris asked, ignoring Lane.

"No!" Rory said forcefully at the exact same moment that Jess said 'yes'.

"You're not staying."

"You invited me," Jess reminded her.

"I didn't invite you. You just showed up like you always do."

"Yeah?" Jess said angrily. "I can just take the food and go then."

"Fine," Rory agreed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Rory, I'm starving," Lane reminded her.

"Did he just bring this food? For you?" Paris asked, trying to figure out what was going on.

"It's from Luke," Jess said quickly.

Paris looked at him in confusion. "Who's Luke?"

"From the diner," Lane explained.

"You're Luke?" Paris asked Jess.

"No, he's Jess."

Paris nodded absently, distracted by the container Lane was holding up. "Is that mac and cheese?"

"Looks like it," Lane said, opening the container.

"The food stays," Paris firmly declared.

Jess shook his head. "If I go, the food goes."

"Then he stays too," Paris accepted.

"What? He is _not_ staying," Rory disagreed.

Paris turned to the other guest. "Lane?"

Caught in the middle, Lane glanced between Rory, Jess, Paris, and the food. Coming to a decision, she sighed and focused on her best friend. "Rory, I'm starving," she said apologetically. "And he brought cookies. _Luke's cookies."_

"Fine. If he wants to stay, he can stay," Rory reluctantly gave in.

"Thank god!" Lane cheered, grabbing a container and sitting down.

"Pass the mac and cheese," Paris ordered, taking a seat beside Lane.

Still annoyed, Jess glanced at Rory and sat down.

Rory frowned and looked at the only open seat. She hesitated briefly, then, sighing, she pulled out the chair and sat down between Lane and Jess.

***

They ate in uncomfortable silence. Or, at least, Rory and Jess ate in uncomfortable silence. The other two teenagers were ferociously devouring the food, seemingly oblivious to the tension. Occasionally, when she would reach out to grab something, Rory would steal a glance at Jess, but his eyes remained fixed on his food. Even so, the firm set of his mouth was all she needed to see to surmise that he was upset.

"So you're the town delivery boy?" Paris asked abruptly, breaking the silence.

Jess looked up at her but didn't say anything.

Lane noticed and offered an explanation. "He works at the diner, but he isn't a delivery boy. Actually, Luke's doesn't usually offer delivery."

"It's a new Wheels on Meals program," Jess smirked. "We assist those who aren't able to cook for themselves." He gave Rory a knowing look before turning back to his food.

Rory narrowed her eyes at him.

Paris picked up on the exchange and grinned. "Rory can't cook?"

"Yes, I can cook," Rory interrupted. 

"Right," Jess scoffed, shaking his head in amusement.

"I can!" Rory protested.

"So Rory can't cook," Paris stated. "That's actually kind of a relief."

"How so?" Jess asked, looking at Paris.

"I'm no longer competing with perfection, which means I still have a chance at beating her at her own game."

"Cooking and academics have nothing in common," Rory protested.

"For every imperfection on the surface, several more lurk below. Like pimples," Paris explained.

"Lane, a little help here," Rory begged.

"Uh, she makes a mean bag of microwave popcorn," Lane offered.

"Gee, thanks," Rory moped.

Jess smirked.

"So did you grow up here?" Paris questioned, turning her attention to Jess.

"New York."

"SoHo?"

"East Village," Jess clarified.

"Really?" Paris asked skeptically.

"Would I lie about living in East Village?"

"I guess not. So, East Village," Paris mulled. "That's a neighbor to Greenwich Village, home of the Beat Movement and literature's downward spiral into the doldrums of banality."

"Are you serious?" Jess asked in disbelief.

"You've read the Beats? My sympathies. A tragic waste of paper."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Well, it's true, the Beats writing was completely self-indulgent. I have one word for Kerouac – edit."

"It was not self-indulgent," Jess disagreed, getting riled up. "The Beats believed in shocking people, stirring things up."

"They believed in drugs, booze, and petty crime."

"Their writing was much deeper than that," Jess argued. 

"Also planning on nominating Danielle Steele for the next Pulitzer?"

"You're cracked," Jess dismissed.

"Typical guy response. Worship Kerouac and Bukowski. God forbid you'd pick up anything by Jane Austen."

"Hey, I've read Jane Austen."

"You have?" Paris asked.

"Yeah, and I think she would've liked Bukowski."

"Oh, this I've gotta hear," Paris declared, dropping her French fry and focusing her full attention on Jess.

"It's simple really. The problem is that your Chilton education is only teaching you to look at the surface of things," Jess explained. "You probably read a Jane Austen novel and thought it was a nice story. Well-written. After all, she dotted all her I's and crossed all her T's. Most of her stories have an adequate plot and fairly interesting characters. To you, that makes her a classic. And you probably read Charles Bukowski, and you saw sex and violence wrapped up in crude language and arbitrary line breaks."

"One of his best known works is titled 'To the whore who took my poems'," Paris reminded him. 

"Exactly. You see that, and you immediately presuppose that this guy has nothing in common with Jane Austen. You're lucky to find a chaste kiss in one of her novels. But that's all superficial analysis, which is ironic, considering that's exactly what they have in common."

"Which is?" Paris prodded.

"The exposure of superficiality and conformity in the world around them. Both Austen and Bukowski see the world as a place where people have become passive about their own existence. Everyone just moves mechanically through day-to-day living. No one feels anything. No one actually _lives. They may be coming at it from different eras, approaching it in different styles, but the basic truth is still there: people are blind and unfeeling, incapable of experiencing life as a series of important choices meant to be made by the individual and not by the expectations of society. Everyone's too quick to meet the status quo."_

"So you're saying both Jane Austen and Charles Bukowski are satirical?" Rory asked, considering the idea.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Austen approaches it by focusing on the prim and properness of society, the excess of false emotion. In her novels, the biggest worry of the characters is which man to marry, but it isn't about which man they _want_ to marry; it's about who they're _expected_ to marry. The idea of falling in love, actually physically and mentally experiencing the emotions they claim to feel so strongly, falls by the wayside. The satire is subtle, but it's there, especially in _Pride and Prejudice_. Even the title reflects what she's trying to say. Everyone in the novel makes snap judgments about those around them, and then, finally, at the end, Elizabeth goes against the grain by marrying Mr. Darcy. She's Austen's idea of progress. Unlike a character like Mrs. Bennet, who can't have a conversation that strays from the facts of the given social situation. She just repeats the same ideas over and over again. It's Austen's way of parodying how robotic people at that time had become."

"And Bukowski?" Paris asked, intrigued.

"Well, he's straightforward. That's why Austen would've liked him. Even as much as she espoused the virtues of independent thought, Austen was tied up in the necessities of the time. She had to conform to the style and expectations of the reading public. Bukowski and the other Beat poets created their own style. Almost an anti-poetry. But Bukowski's words express the same idea Austen hid under pretense. 'I see people in department stores and supermarkets'," Jess quoted. "'walking down aisles, buying things, and I see by the way their clothing fits them and by the way they walk and by their faces and their eyes that they care for nothing and that nothing cares for them. I can see a hundred people a day who have given up entirely'. When you look below the surface, they're saying the same thing."

"I thought you didn't like Jane Austen," Rory remarked.

"I don't. And I don't think Bukowski would like her either. She may have a point, but the process of uncovering it is boring as hell."

Rory smiled and glanced at Paris, who seemed to be taking a moment to process what Jess had said. "It's an interesting theory," she said after a while.

"I think I just learned more in five minutes than I have in my entire English career," Lane commented.

Jess shrugged. "School is like Jane Austen. They insist on making it so boring that it's impossible to pay attention."

Paris looked around. "Are all sleepovers this exciting?"

Lane and Jess chuckled. Rory, meanwhile, stole a shy, unnoticed glance up at Jess and smiled.

***

"So, what next?" Paris asked a little while later as they polished off the last of the desserts that Jess had brought.

"Movies?" Lane offered.

"Movies require popcorn, and I could _not_ eat any popcorn right now," Rory replied.

Lane nodded. "Good point. We'll need at least 2-3 hours to recover from dinner."

"What about a game?" Rory offered. "Pictionary?"

"No way!" Lane objected. "Last time we played, you thought my giraffe was an anteater."

"That was an honest mistake!"

"What about Monopoly?"

"Ooh, yeah, Monopoly," Rory agreed with her best friend. "I'm up for a little competition."

Paris's eyes lit up. "Count me in. Are the rules complicated?"

"Oh boy," Rory said, glancing at Lane for assistance.

"I'm all over it. I'll fill her in and set up the board."

Rory nodded, and Lane and Paris headed towards the living room.

After they left, Rory stood up and began cleaning up the empty containers. Not sure what he was supposed to do, Jess rose and began to help. After a moment, they fell into a rhythm: Jess grabbing empty boxes from the table and handing them to Rory, who then stuffed them into the garbage bag.

"So you impressed Paris," Rory said, glancing up at him.

"It was just a theory. Didn't take much thought."

"Not much, huh?" Rory repeated, smirking as she remembered one of her first conversations with Jess.

"Yeah, not much," Jess smiled. 

He barely ever smiled like that, Rory thought. It looked good on him. "That theory would make for an impressive honor's thesis. I bet no one's ever tried to compare Austen and Bukowski before."

"In that case, feel free to borrow it," Jess quipped.

They continued to work in silence, and soon the table was cleared. Jess handed her the last box, but Rory paused before she took it completely, forcing their hands to hold it steady on either side. "Why did you come here tonight?" she asked quietly without moving her eyes from the container between them.

"So you wouldn't starve to death," Jess reminded her.

Rory looked up at him. "You and I both know Caesar could've delivered the care package."

"Look, I'm sorry I interrupted your slumber party, but if you're looking for some hidden agenda, you aren't gonna find one," Jess said. "Luke made a care package. I delivered it."

"Okay," Rory accepted.

Jess nodded, and Rory turned to put the box in the trash bag. Meanwhile, Jess walked over and picked up his coat.

"Where are you going?" Rory asked, watching him closely.

"Home. You ate. Mission accomplished."

"You should stay."

Jess stopped his actions and looked at her. "Why?"

"Well, for one thing, Lane and I suck at Monopoly, so you're the only chance we have of taking down Paris."

"Okay," Jess accepted, waiting for her to finish. "And?"

Rory looked down at her feet, weighing her words. Then, turning back to him, she said cautiously, "And because I want you to."

"Take down Paris in Monopoly?" Jess asked, pretending not to understand.

"Stay," Rory finished.

Jess nodded and set his coat back on the chair. "Okay."

***

"You did _not just roll a five!" Lane complained, watching as Jess situated his game piece on Park Place._

Paris frowned. "This game isn't even about strategy. It's the luck of the die."

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier when you took half of my money," Rory reminded her.

"This is war, Gilmore," Paris stated. "There's no place for friendly exceptions."

"Remember that when I own half the board!" 

"Yeah, right," Paris scoffed.

"Just becau—," Rory began to protest, but she was quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Rory?" Lorelai called from the doorway as she hung up her coat and dropped her overnight bag on the floor.

"In here!" Rory yelled back, confused.

Lorelai rounded the corner and entered the living room. "Hey, babe! Hey Lane," she greeted, her eyes scanning the room. "Hey Paris. And… Jess?" she finished, glancing at Rory for an explanation.

"Jess stopped by with some food from Luke," Rory explained.

"And now he's playing Monopoly. Well, that makes sense."

"I was just leaving," Jess interjected, standing up.

"Don't let me run you off. Finish your game."

"I'm supposed to close the diner," Jess said. He glanced at the three teenage girls. "Thanks for the game." Before anyone had time to respond, he was headed for the kitchen, and, moments later, they heard the back door close behind him.

"Sorry 'bout that," Lorelai apologized. "Should I take his place?"

"It's all yours," Rory agreed, trying not to seem disappointed that Jess had left. "What are you doing here?"

"Apparently, I nearly drove my mother to cheat on your grandfather. But that's another tale for another time. Am I winning?" she asked, glancing down at all of the money and property Jess had accumulated.

"Yes," Paris and Lane groaned.

"Did I just land on Park Place?"

"Yes," they sighed.

"You ladies are going down!" Lorelai cheered.

***

"I love this part," Lorelai whispered quietly from her position on the floor beside Rory, the image of Rob Lowe lighting a hairspray-induced flame for Demi Moore flashing across the television.

"They fell asleep," Rory said, motioning to Lane and Paris.

"I've always heard watching four movies in a row was humanly impossible."

"But we're superhuman," Rory reminded her, smiling.

"That we are," Lorelai agreed, snuggling closer. "So, tonight was good."

"Yeah, tonight was good," Rory agreed.

"I won Monopoly."

Rory grinned. "I saw."

Lorelai smiled happily. After watching the movie in silence for a while, she glanced at her daughter out of the corner of her eye. "Truth or Dare?" she whispered.

"What?"

"You can't have a sleepover without playing 'Truth or Dare', so Truth or Dare?"

Familiar with Lorelai's past dares, Rory knew she had no choice. "Truth," she whispered.

Lorelai focused her eyes on the screen. "What was Jess doing here tonight?"

Rory paused, caught off-guard. "He brought the care package from Luke."

"And?"

"And the construction at the diner is crazy, so he ate here."

"That's all?"

"That's all," Rory assured her.

Lorelai nodded and turned back to the movie, but she was no longer paying attention to it. After about five minutes of internal debate, she made a decision and said quietly, "It's okay if that's not all."

Rory didn't respond.

Lorelai waited a moment, giving her time. Then, she looked down at her daughter. She was fast asleep. Lorelai sighed and hunkered further into the sleeping bag, promising herself that she'd tell Rory tomorrow.


	14. EHN! Wrong Answer!

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 14: Ehn! Wrong Answer!**

**_Disclaimer_**_: As always, the characters, setting, etc. of this story belong to ASP, her disciples, the WB, and anyone else with some semblance of legal ownership. Some lines in this story are from real episodes. That means I didn't write them. Hehe._

**_A/N_**_: This chapter is dedicated to my oldest brother, **Mike, because he's the only person on the planet who makes me think that basketball might not suck. To those of you who have been waiting for a certain event to take place in this fic, I have two words: Have Patience. All good things come to those who wait. That said, enjoy! ~Becka**_

The smell of eggs drifted into the living room, pulling Rory into a state of half-consciousness. Caught somewhere between dreams and reality, she concentrated on the scent and tried to determine which side it belonged on. Slowly, she opened her eyes and allowed her surroundings to come into focus. She soon found herself looking at the world from an ant's point of view – everything looming above her and around her, unnecessarily large. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the unusual angle, noticing things she never had before, like the small scratches worn into the legs of the nearby end tables, a result, no doubt, of her mother's former obsession with furniture rearrangement. Small, ragged threads dangled down from the bottom of the couch. Rory made a mental note to trim them the next time she found herself at floor level. During the night, her pillow had slipped out from under her head, and the carpet was rough against her cheek. Despite her best efforts, she found herself focusing on it and getting irritated by the slightly itchy sensation. Sighing, she pulled herself up to a sitting position. The eggs' aroma hit her full force now, and she blinked, dazed and a little confused. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the other sleeping bags. Paris was still asleep in one of them; the other two lay open, empty and rumpled. Rory dragged herself to her feet and shuffled sleepily towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Snoozy!" Lorelai smiled, glancing briefly at her daughter's drowsy face before turning back to the stove. Rory collapsed into a kitchen chair and watched her mother for a moment. There was a frying pan on the stove in front of her, and she had a spatula, like a dangerous weapon, clenched tightly in her right hand.

"What is she doing?" Rory asked worriedly, glancing at her best friend.

"Making breakfast," Lane responded from her perch on the countertop. "Well, sort of."

"It doesn't look like Pop-Tarts."

"It isn't," Lane confirmed. "It's an omelet."

"My mother is making an omelet?" Rory asked.

Lane smiled. "She's trying."

Rory folded her arms on the table in front of her and then flopped her heavy head down on top of them. "Not good," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Hey!" Lorelai protested. "I resent that. Watch and marvel!"

Rory peered up at her mother but didn't lift her head. 

Like a surgeon, Lorelai held out her hand. "Plate!" she said authoritatively.

Lane handed her a plate.

"Okay," Lorelai said, more to herself than to anyone else. "Now I just sort of… flip it…" She angled the plate and contorted her arms, trying to find an easy way to get the omelet onto the plate. Not finding a satisfactory approach, she lifted the pan and tried strategically positioning it over the plate.

Rory giggled. "Auditioning for Cirque de Culinary Soleil?"

"Hold on. This is not as easy as it looks," Lorelai replied, tilting the pan slightly. Cautiously, she slid the spatula under the far side of the egg. "Okay, on the count of three… One…," she began.

"Two," Lane continued, eyeing the pan nervously.

"Three," Rory finished, her full attention now on her mother's antics.

At the count, Lorelai forcefully slid the spatula all of the way under the omelet and tried to flip it onto the plate. Half of it stuck to the pan, and the rest crumbled into small pieces. There was a pause as Lorelai stared at the broken omelet in disbelief. Lane and Rory, meanwhile, tried very hard not to look amused. After a moment, Lorelai scraped the rest of the egg off the pan and scooped it onto the plate. "Scrambled eggs, anyone?"

"It was a nice effort," Lane assured her, taking the plate from her hand.

Paris entered the kitchen and sat down across from Rory. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Lane frowned. "And suddenly I'm not so hungry."

"Did you put something in my food last night?" Paris accused, her eyes on Rory.

"No."

"You slipped something into my soda."

"I didn't put anything in your soda."

"Fine. Then I bet it was that Bukowski-worshipping East Villager."

"Jess didn't put anything in your soda either," Rory assured her.

"Then why do I feel like I just sat through 'Crossroads'?"

"How many pixie sticks did you have?" Rory asked.

"I don't know. Why? Are they known to cause nausea and stomach cramping? Don't you think you could have told me that before you forced them on me? Are those eggs?" Paris asked, turning her ire towards Lorelai.

"Uh, well, allegedly," Lorelai answered.

"You thought it would be a good idea to make eggs? Why not just offer me a nice, big, frosty glass of ipecac syrup? That'd do the trick. Excuse me," Paris finished, hurrying out of the kitchen.

"Is it possible to wake up on the wrong side of a sleeping bag?" Lane asked.

"With Paris, anything is possible," Rory replied as she stood up and walked toward the stove. "Are we really gonna eat those?"

"Are you doubting my eggs?" Lorelai asked, taking the plate from Lane. Without missing a beat, she picked up a fork and took a bite. She paused momentarily and then began to chew slowly. After a few seconds, she swallowed heavily. Then, she walked over to the garbage can and shoveled the rest of the eggs into the bag. 

Rory grinned. "Luke's it is."

***

About an hour later, Rory was showered, dressed, and walking beside her mother towards the diner. Both Lane and Paris had headed home; Lane to make her 11 a.m. post-sleepover curfew and Paris to sleep off her sugar hangover.

"Maybe Luke could be my Obi-Wan," Lorelai suggested.

"I seriously doubt Luke has the patience to teach you how to cook."

"Are you kidding me? That man has the patience of a saint."

Rory gave her mother a skeptical look.

"Okay, maybe not," Lorelai conceded. "Should I take classes?"

"Since when do you want to learn how to cook?"

"I hear cooking is sexy."

"Yeah, I bet that shimmy you did with the pan earlier really turns them on. Oh, and the burnt egg bits. Hubba-hubba."

"Is it so much to ask for a little support?"

"Sorry. You're right," Rory agreed. "I fully support you learning how to cook."

"Thank you."

"Even if it means all of my personal belongings could be lost in a tragic kitchen fire."

"Nice."

"Seriously, I'm sure you'll be great at cooking," Rory assured her, trying a different tactic.

"I'm sure you're right."

"But what about Sookie?"

"Sookie?"

"Yeah, see, she's used to being the great cook, but, if you take classes, she might feel threatened."

"Nah," Lorelai dismissed.

"No, really," Rory continued. "Before long, you'll be known as the soufflé queen while Sookie will be reduced to making subpar macaroni and cheese. It could ruin her life."

"Well, in that case, maybe I better not," Lorelai grinned. "For Sookie's sake."

"Right, for Sookie's sake," Rory agreed.

They walked for a while in silence. Then, remembering the night before, Rory turned to her mother. "Sorry I didn't make it through the movie last night."

"Oh," Lorelai said quickly. "It's all right. Judd and I wanted some alone time anyway."

"Of course," Rory smiled as they reached the door to Luke's. "So I didn't miss anything?"

Lorelai looked at her daughter. In the bright light of day, her thoughts of the night before seemed insane. She'd almost given her daughter permission to see Jess. Jess… the boy whose picture you could find in a dictionary next to the word 'heartbreak'. She shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "Nothing important."

***

Lorelai and Rory removed their coats and took a seat at one of the few vacant tables. Moments later, Luke approached.

"I thought you were supposed to be out of town," he said gruffly, directing his gaze at Lorelai.

"Good morning to you too, Luke."

"The other town wouldn't take you?"

"Actually, the other town proposed marriage, but I just couldn't imagine a life without your cheery face."

"Ostracized in less than a day. That's gotta be a record."

"Ooh, I see you've been using that Word-a-Day calendar we bought you."

"What do you want to eat?"

"See, he used up his word early, so now he's back to single syllables," Lorelai said, grinning at Rory. "Next year, I'm gonna splurge and buy him the Two-Words-a-Day calendar."

Rory smiled at their exchange and looked down at her menu. "Ooh, I think I'll have an omelet."

"Hey, I thought you didn't want an omelet today!"

"No, I just didn't want your omelet," Rory explained, setting down the menu.

"Cheddar or Swiss?" Luke clarified.

"Cheddar."

"Everything on it?"

"Of course."

"Side of bacon or side of sausage?"

"Bacon."

"I should've guessed. Any chance you know what your mom wants?" he asked, not looking up from his notepad.

"Cooking lessons," Lorelai answered, her eyes casually roaming over the menu options.

"Oh boy," Rory mumbled.

Luke glanced up at her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Pretend like I didn't."

"Okay, I said I want two waffles, fluffy scrambled eggs, a side of bacon, cooking lessons, and a glass of orange juice."

"You want _cooking_ lessons?" he asked.

Lorelai put the menu back on the table. "Yes, please."

"From me?"

"From you," Lorelai agreed, preparing herself for his biting retort.

He shrugged. "Okay."

Lorelai's brow furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Luke scribbled down the rest of her order and slid the pencil behind his ear. "You heard me."

"But I swear you said…"

"So that'll be a cheddar omelet with everything on it, two waffles, scrambled eggs, two sides of bacon, and a glass of orange juice," Luke repeated. He looked at Lorelai. "Just let me know when you're free. I'll send Jess over with some coffee." Without another word, he turned around and walked back over to the counter.

Lorelai watched him go then turned to Rory. "Did Luke just say he'd teach me how to cook?"

"I think he did," Rory agreed, equally astonished.

Lorelai peered over at him curiously. "Does his flannel shirt look a little different today?"

"Um," Rory contemplated. "No, not really."

"Yes, it does. Maybe he's been pod-personed!"

"You are very strange," Rory commented, shaking her head.

"No, seriously. When he comes over here, ask him a question only Luke would know the answer to."

"But if only Luke would know the answer, how am I supposed to…"

"Sshh…" Lorelai interrupted. "Here comes Nephew Pod! Act cool!" Lorelai adopted a posture of nonchalance and glanced at Jess. "Oh, hey Jess!"

Jess looked at Lorelai and then at Rory. "What's with her?"

"She thinks Luke is a pod-person."

"Huh," Jess accepted with a nod. He set two mugs down on the table and filled them to the rim with coffee. When he finished, he smirked at Rory then turned to Lorelai. "Luke's _really_ excited about the cooking lessons," he said simply before walking away.

Lorelai's mouth fell open. "Luke's _excited_ about something? He's definitely been podded. And did you notice how Jess didn't even try to deny it?"

"No more late-night sundaes for you, young lady," Rory admonished. 

"And he keeps yelling at Tom."

"Jess?"

"No, Luke!"

"That's out-of-character?" Rory asked.

"It's not the yelling. It's the timbre of his voice."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "The timbre of his voice?"

"Yeah, it's more…" Lorelai began, searching for the right word. "Nasally or something."

"Maybe it's all the construction dust he's been inhaling."

"I'm telling you, he's a pod-person."

"And a few days ago, he was an adult refugee of 'The Village of the Damned'."

"You can't deny that his hair looked lighter."

"Again, construction dust."

"Likely story," Lorelai scoffed.

"You have completely lost it," Rory said matter-of-factly.

"He said he'd give me cooking lessons!"

Rory nodded sympathetically. "I know."

"It's too weird. Distract me."

"Tell me about the spa."

"Oh God!" Lorelai groaned. "Speaking of 'The Village of the Damned'…"

***

"You actually got Grandma to steal a bathrobe?" Rory asked incredulously a short while later.

"Although I did catch her trying to return it while I was getting in the car."

"Still…"

Lorelai nodded. "I know, life with my mother: one step forward, five thousand steps back. It's kinda like the spastic polka."

"Excuse me. Are you done?" Kirk asked from his position behind them.

"No, uh, sorry, not yet," Lorelai replied.

"So, you're gonna eat that half a piece of bacon that's been sitting there for ten minutes?"

"Kirk," Lorelai warned.

"I mean, of course, you must be if you're saying you're not done because that's the only thing left in front of you, unless you eat plates."

"Go away!"

"You are hogging the table."

"You keep it up, I'm gonna have Luke come pod you," Lorelai threatened.

Kirk frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it," Lorelai cryptically replied.

Kirk took a few steps away from the table.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" Lorelai asked, turning her attention back to Rory.

"Oh, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. How do you feel about basketball?"

"The sport?"

"Yes."

"Um… I don't know. I thought it gave a nice performance in 'Hoosiers', but nothing can really redeem it after 'Teen Wolf 2'. Why?"

"I have to go to Dean's game tonight."

"Have to or want to?" Lorelai asked.

"Want to. I guess. Sort of."

Lorelai nodded knowingly. "It means a lot to Dean, but you're afraid you're going to be bored out of your mind."

"Add 'completely confused' and that about sums it up."

"I'll go with you."

"You will?" Rory said hopefully.

"Definitely. It sounds like fun. I have to head to the Inn, but afterwards, I'll stop by the store, buy some pom-poms, and meet you back home later."

"I'll get the check," Rory agreed. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "You really think it sounds like fun?"

Lorelai stood and pulled on her coat. "A night of ruthlessly tormenting cheerleaders," she mused. "How could that _not_ be fun?"

Rory smiled and headed towards the register. She glanced at Jess who was reading behind the counter then directed her attention to the diner owner. "Hey Luke!" she said cheerfully.

Luke turned his attention to Rory. "What, you find a nail in your food? I swear to God, Tom," he yelled. "You are dead. You hear me? Dead!"

"There's nothing wrong with the food, Luke," Rory assured him.

"Oh, sorry, Tom," Luke called.

"I just wanted to thank you."

"Yeah, for what? Offering to give your mom cooking lessons? For the record, I'm already regretting that."

"No, for the care package. It was really sweet of you."

Jess's head shot up from his book.

"What care package?"

"Hey Luke," Jess said, hurrying forward to run interference. "I think they hit the water line again."

"Oh, what?" Luke asked, confused. Realization dawning, he quickly walked over to the construction workers. "You are dead, Tom. You hear me? Dead!"

Jess approached the register.

"Huh, interesting," Rory smirked.

"Hey, you wanna pay?" Jess asked, ignoring her statement.

"I don't think Luke knew anything about the food last night."

Jess looked down at the order pad. "That'll be twelve-fifty."

"Which means you lied about why you came over," Rory continued.

Jess pulled open the register. "I don't have any quarters. I'm gonna have to give you nickels."

"Now why would you lie about something like that?" Rory wondered out loud.

"Here's your change. Come again soon," Jess finished.

Rory smiled. "You _wanted_ to come over."

Jess paused and met Rory's gaze. Slowly, a smirk spread over his face. "_You wanted me to stay," he reminded her._

Rory immediately felt her cheeks redden. "So Paris wouldn't win Monopoly."

Jess shrugged. "If you say so."

"Are you saying you didn't want to stay?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you wanted to stay."

"And you wanted me to stay," Jess repeated.

"Just because I _said_ I wanted you to stay doesn't mean I _wanted_ you to stay," Rory clarified.

"Just because I stayed doesn't mean I wanted to be there in the first place," Jess retorted.

"And yet you're the one who dropped by."

"To deliver the care package."

"The care package Luke knows nothing about," Rory reminded him.

Jess smirked. "Haven't you heard? Luke's been 'podded'."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" Rory teased.

"What's convenient?" Dean interrupted, wrapping his arms protectively around Rory's waist from behind. 

Rory startled a bit at his unexpected appearance but recovered quickly. "Oh, just those little muffin cups Luke bought. Have you seen them? They're just big enough to hold one muffin, but they're insulated to keep it warm."

Dean smiled. "Ranks right up there with the invention of the wheel."

"Where will technology take us next?" Rory crooned.

Fully aware of Jess's presence, Dean snuggled closer to his girlfriend. "You ready to go?"

Jess stoically resisted the urge to tell him to get a room.

"Yeah, I was just paying," Rory told her boyfriend.

"Actually, you finished that awhile ago," Jess reminded her.

"C'mon," Dean stated, ignoring Jess. "We only have a few hours before I have to head to the gym for warm-ups before the game."

"Another rousing round of Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey?" Jess asked innocently.

Dean chuckled derisively and shook his head. "Yeah, right. We missed you last week. The game just isn't the same without the donkey."

"And yet there were still plenty of as—"

"Okay," Rory interjected, easing out of Dean's grasp and taking his hand to lead him away from Jess. "Time to go."

Dean shot a parting glare at Jess as he followed Rory to the door.

As they walked past the diner window, Rory glanced inside at Jess, but he had already turned back to his book.

***

"How do you do that without tripping?" Lorelai asked.

"Years of practice," Rory replied, not looking up from her book as they walked.

"It's unnerving. It's like you have some sort of radar that tells you when we reach a curb or have to make a turn."

Rory glanced up. "They're called eyes."

"What's so exciting anyway?" Lorelai asked, grabbing the book from Rory's hands. She flipped it around and looked at the cover. "Basketball? You're reading a book about basketball?"

Rory snatched it back, a sour expression on her face. "I need to be informed."

"Honey, you're watching the game, not starting as guard."

"See," Rory said as if to prove her point. "_You_ know enough about basketball to know that guard is a position. Without this book, I'd look like a fool out there."

"Is there a pop quiz during half-time that I don't know about?"

"I'm the starting center's girlfriend; someone might ask me a question."

"How does he get his hair so floppy?" Lorelai teased.

"For example," Rory said, ignoring her. "If someone asks who invented basketball, I'll know that it was James Naismith."

"Was he born that tall?" Lorelai asked in her best Valley Girl accent. "Or did he, like, take special pills?"

"Or," Rory continued. "If someone asks how many rules there were originally, I can say 13, a number some might consider unlucky.  But how unlucky can thirteen rules be if more than 300 million people now play the game worldwide?"

"You're scaring mommy. Put the book away."

"There is crucial information in here."

"I'm sure there is," Lorelai nodded. "But you'll figure it out as you watch. That's how I learned."

"Fine," Rory accepted, turning to the glossary. "Define charging."

"Are you serious?" 

"You're the one who claims to know all there is to know."

"Fine. Charging is… what you're doing… if… you're buying a blouse, and you forgot your cash at home."

"Ehn!" Rory exclaimed loudly, acting like a game show buzzer. "Charging is an offensive foul which occurs when an offensive player runs into a defender who has established position."

"Well, if the player is that offensive, I hope he showers after the game," Lorelai joked.

"Rebound?" Rory asked.

"Ooh, I know this one. The relationship one has immediately after the end of a serious relationship. It never ends well."

Rory glared at her mother. "EHN! Are you even trying?"  
"No, not really," Lorelai admitted.

"A rebound is the term used to describe the actual retrieving of the ball as it rebounds from the backboard or the ring after a missed shot."

"Right, I thought that's what I said."

"What does it mean if you palm the ball?" Rory asked, looking up from the book.

Lorelai grinned mischievously. "I'm gonna have to tell you about that one when you're older."

"I'm ignoring you now," Rory said, flipping back to the earlier pages of the book.

"Wait, wait," Lorelai interrupted as she grabbed the book from Rory's hand. "Let me quiz you. Hmmm… let's see," she drawled, skimming the glossary. "Ah, okay, here's one. What's a fake?"

Rory didn't even pause before responding. "A movement made with the aim of deceiving an opponent."

"EHN!" Lorelai said loudly. "Now if you'd read this book thoroughly, you'd know that a fake is the slang term for the smile the cheerleaders plaster on their faces when performing those high kicks."

"Haha. Can I have my book back now?"

"Nope," Lorelai firmly stated as she shoved it into her bag.

"Hey!" Rory protested.

"It's for your own good."

"That book is from the library."

"I put it in my purse, not the garbage."

"Give it back!"

"Oh, look, we're here," Lorelai pointed out, pulling open the gymnasium door. 

Rory flashed her best puppy dog eyes. "Please give it back."

"Not on your life."

***

A searing pain shot through Rory's back. Silently cursing the uncomfortable bleacher seats, she shifted her position and glanced at the score clock. She sighed. "I swear that clock said two minutes about fifteen minutes ago."

Lorelai looked at the timer and nodded. "Time stands still in the world of sports. Two minutes really means forty-five."

"Perfect," Rory moped.

"My offer still stands."

Rory turned her eyes to the game. "We are _not_ grabbing people's feet from underneath the bleachers."

"But it'll be fun."

"We could give someone a heart attack."

"See, fun."

"Keep this up, and you're coming back as a garden slug in your next life."

"Okay, fine, we'll avoid the senior citizens."

"We are not grabbing people's fee—"

"AIRBALL!" Lorelai yelled at the top of her lungs, as one of the basketball players shot and missed the basket by several feet.

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed, horrified. "That was Dean."

"It was?" Lorelai asked, peering down at the court.

"Yes, and he missed the shot because he was fouled."

Lorelai squinted. "You ever notice how all of them look alike?"

"Did you notice that the only people who were yelling 'airball' were sitting on the _other_ side of the court?"

"Ooh, look, look! He gets to shoot free throws," Lorelai pointed out, as the teams gathered on either side of the free throw zone. "C'mon, hands in the air!"

"I'm not putting my hands in the air."

Lorelai adopted a look of horror. "You're refusing to support your _boyfriend, the _center_ for the Stars Hollow team?" she asked loudly, drawing several people's attention._

Rory sighed and put her hands in the air. "Fine."

Waving their fingers above them, they watched as Dean dribbled the ball and prepared to take his shot. He aimed, and the ball soared through the air.

"SWOOSH!" the Stars Hollow fans exclaimed in unison, dropping their hands in a rush as the ball fell through the hoop.

Rory glanced around and frowned. "Doesn't it worry you that organized sports turn people into cult members?"

"He's taking his second shot," Lorelai said, ignoring her. "Hands in the air!"

Rory put her hands in the air and waited as Dean aimed. He shot, and the ball bounced off the rim. The crowd sighed and unceremoniously returned their hands to their sides.

"Air… ball…" Lorelai mouthed, grinning mischievously at Rory.

"Garden… slug…" Rory mouthed back, shifting in her seat again.

***

"Three! Two! One!" 

As the buzzer sounded, the Stars Hollow crowd broke into whoops and hollers of victory.

"Finally," Rory breathed before standing up and rubbing her back.

"Dean was pretty good, huh?" Lorelai asked as she pulled on her coat.

"Dean was great," Rory agreed, glancing at her boyfriend as he received congratulations from fellow players and cheerleaders. "But basketball is boring."

"How can you say that? Watching basketball is like playing charades but with yelling."

"I hate charades," Rory reminded her mother.

Lorelai looked at her skeptically. "You're telling me you didn't have _any fun?"_

"It was fun seeing Dean," Rory conceded. "And the last minute was okay."

"You were practically hyperventilating when he took that last shot," Lorelai grinned.

"I was afraid you were going to yell 'airball' if he missed," Rory teased, smiling.

"Moi?" Lorelai asked, her eyes twinkling as she feigned offense at Rory's statement.

Rory scanned the gym for Dean. "Can we go down there and see him?"

"Of course," Lorelai agreed, guiding Rory through the hoards of people.

When they reached Dean, a blonde cheerleader had just stepped forward to give him a hug. As soon as he saw Rory though, Dean pulled away and walked towards her. Rory smiled and reached up to give him a hug. "You were great!" she said sincerely, grinning from ear to ear.

"I was okay," Dean dismissed, holding her tight. "It helped that you were here."

Rory smiled. "It did?"

"Yeah," Dean repeated, pulling back but keeping his hands securely on her waist. "Did you have fun?"

"I was a little confused," Rory admitted.

"I told her the book wouldn't help," Lorelai chimed in.

"What book?" Dean asked.

"The book on basketball she was reading earlier today."

Dean smiled proudly. "You were reading a book on basketball?" Before Rory could answer, he leaned forward and softly kissed her.

"Hey Dean!" a girl interrupted, causing him to pull away. "Great game."

Dean smiled. "Thanks. The whole team was on tonight."

"But you were definitely the MVP," the girl added, smiling.

Lorelai glanced at Rory for the requisite mutual eye roll, but Rory was calmly watching the exchange, unfazed.

"Rory," Dean said, pulling her close. "This is Caralyn."

Rory smiled. "I think we had a class together a couple of years ago."

"Right," Cara agreed. 

"And this is Rory's mom, Lorelai," Dean finished.

"Nice to meet you," Cara said before turning back to Dean. "So, Dean, some of us are going out for pizza to celebrate. Interested?"

"Yeah, definitely," Dean agreed. "Rory?"

Rory hesitated. The idea of talking basketball with a bunch of practical strangers didn't sound particularly appealing.

"You should go," Lorelai interjected. "There's no food in the house, and, this way, I know you won't starve to death."

"Sure, come," Cara agreed. "It'll be fun to catch up. We haven't seen you in forever."

Rory looked from Cara to Dean to her mother. There was no way out. 

***

Under the table, Dean's hand squeezed Rory's reassuringly. Realizing she had been staring blankly at the checkered tablecloth, Rory quickly looked up at her boyfriend and smiled in an attempt to show she had been listening. He smiled back, seemingly satisfied, and turned his attention back to his friends. Rory tried to listen to their conversation but found herself lost among the basketball terms. After a few minutes, she let her gaze wander around the pizza parlor instead. Her eyes fell on the collection of Smurf memorabilia, and she grinned slightly, remembering Jess's reaction when she had pointed them out. 

"So, Rory," Cara began. 

Hearing her name, Rory quickly looked away from the Smurfs and blushed as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. "Yeah?" she asked around the frog in her throat.

"Dean told us this was the first time you'd been to a game," Cara continued.

"Oh, yeah. I usually have this dinner thing with my grandparents on Fridays," she explained.

"Well, what'd you think? Dean's something else, isn't he?"

Rory glanced over at her boyfriend and smiled. "He was great."

"That jump-shot in the second was amazing!" Cara gushed, directing her attention to Dean.

Dean grinned proudly. "It's not that hard when you're as tall as I am."

"But still," Cara qualified. "I mean, there are a lot of tall guys out there who would _not_ have made that shot."

"I guess," Dean humbly accepted.

"Steve Wahters, for example," Cara continued. "Could he have sucked more tonight?"

Rory's brow furrowed in confusion. "Which one was Steve?"

"He plays on the other team," Dean explained. "He's supposed to be the best center in the state."

Cara grinned. "Until Dean moved here, that is."

"Really?" Rory asked innocently, surprised.

"Steve's a nobody now," Cara stated, nodding. "Dean could dribble circles around him."

"Geez, Car," Paul, one of the guards, interrupted. "Speaking of dribble, do you want a napkin to wipe up that drool?"

"Shut up!" Cara exclaimed, smacking him hard on the arm.

Rory blushed, suddenly feeling very stupid. 

"Don't listen to him, Rory," Cara said quickly, glaring at Paul. "He's an idiot."

Rory forced a smile but fell silent. Dean ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and Rory looked up at him. He smiled and mouthed 'I love you'. Rory smiled back then looked away. The conversation continued, but, disturbed, she was no longer listening. Her mind warred with itself as she tried to figure out which was bugging her more: that Caralyn Holmes had been flirting with her boyfriend or that, for some reason, she hadn't even noticed.

***

"All right! Who's up for another round of sodas?" Paul asked a short while later, already rising from the table. "Jake? Cara? Dean?" All three teenagers nodded their heads. "Rory?"

Rory paused and glanced at Dean. Then, turning back to Paul, she said hesitantly, "Uh, thanks, but I think I'm gonna go."

"They're on me," Paul tempted.

Rory smiled but shook her head. "No, thanks."

Paul nodded. "Okay," he accepted. "Well, it was nice seeing you again."

"You too."

"I'll be right back," he said to the others before heading in the direction of the drink machines.

Jake turned to talk to Cara, which gave Rory and Dean a brief moment of privacy.

"You're going?" Dean asked, disappointed.

Rory began pulling on her coat and tried to look tired. "I think I must have post-sleepover lag or something."

"Is this because of what Cara said because she and I are just fr—"

"No, I'm just tired," Rory explained before he could finish.

"Okay, I'll walk you home then," Dean offered, moving to pull on his jacket as well.

"You're having a good time."

"I'd rather be with you."

"You should stay."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Rory leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Stay!" she mock-ordered. "My mom would disown me if she found out I pulled you away from a free beverage."

Dean glanced at his friends. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure," Rory nodded. Turning to Jake and Cara, she said her goodbyes and stood to go. She was just scooting out of the booth when Dean grabbed her arm to stop her. Leaning forward, he placed a long kiss on her lips. Then, pulling away, he whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Rory blushed, surprised at his public display of affection. "Congratulations on the win," she whispered back. Then, with a quick, embarrassed glance at Jake and Cara, she scooted out of the booth and headed for the door.

***

A cool wind washed over her as she left the pizza place, and she breathed it in gratefully. She hadn't realized how hot and stifling the air in the restaurant had been until now. She immediately felt the warmth that had risen in her cheeks begin to abate. She turned and headed in the direction of home. As she passed the window looking into the restaurant, she glanced in and saw Dean laughing with his friends at the table. She smiled and continued walking. 

The brisk gusts of wind must have woken her up because she suddenly didn't feel very tired. She walked leisurely through town, glancing in darkened store windows and smiling at the people she passed. Even at her slow pace, it wasn't long before she reached Luke's Diner, and, without giving it much thought, she turned and headed to the door. When she pulled on the handle, however, the bell above the door jingled slightly, but the door didn't open. She glanced at her watch and sighed. She hadn't realized it was so late. Frowning, she turned to go. She only made it down one step before she heard the sound of the lock turning and felt the warmth of the diner waft over her back.

Turning around, she saw Jess leaning against the doorframe.

He smirked. "We're closed."

"I know. Or at least, I do now," she explained, rambling a little. "I guess I didn't realize how late it was. Sorry." She made a move to head back down the stairs, but Jess's voice quickly stopped her.

"Coffee?"

Rory glanced back up at him. He'd moved aside but still held the door open. She smiled a little and walked past him. He pulled the door shut and followed her to the counter.

Rory sat down on a stool and watched as he walked around the counter towards the coffee pot. "Oh," she said quickly, noticing it was empty. "You don't have to make a new pot. Soda is fine."

Jess shrugged and pulled out a filter. "It's better than refilling salt shakers."

Rory nodded and glanced at the row of half-finished shakers. Then, she watched as Jess prepared the pot of coffee. Once it had begun brewing, he turned back to the counter and resumed his shaker-filling duties. Neither of them said anything. The silence was eerie, especially after weeks of construction noise.

Rory shifted uncomfortably in her seat and waited. Then, when Jess still didn't say anything, she decided she could at least be useful. She reached out and grabbed a shaker and a container of extra salt and began refilling. After finishing two shakers, she couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Basketball is pointless," she said firmly, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the empty diner.

Jess grinned and shook his head. "Deep Thoughts with Rory Gilmore," he drawled, his attention still focused on the salt shaker he held in his hand.

Rory blushed a little as she realized how asinine her comment had probably sounded. "Well, it is," she said weakly. 

Jess looked up at her. "Then why'd you go?"

"Dean was playing," she said matter-of-factly. "I was being supportive."

"Huh," Jess accepted, returning his gaze to the shakers.

"He won."

"I heard," Jess said flatly.

"You heard?" Rory asked, surprised.

"Your mom came in after the game."

"Oh."

"She kept yelling 'airball' every time Luke walked past her table."

Rory smiled. "I bet he loved that."

"He gave her table to Kirk."

"He didn't."

Jess smiled. "Oh, he did. It didn't help though. She just followed him around the diner, chanting 'airball' repeatedly until he gave her the table back."

Rory shook her head. "Poor Kirk."

Jess glanced up at her, then back at the shakers. "So, why aren't you celebrating the big victory?" he asked, putting sarcastic emphasis on the last two words.

She shrugged. "I was."

"You left?"

Rory focused intently on screwing the cap back on the salt shaker as she tried to come up with a good answer. After a moment, she said carefully, "I don't have a lot in common with Dean's friends."

"There's a surprise," Jess scoffed.

"It's not a big deal," Rory qualified. "Dean has his friends, and I have mine."

Jess paused and looked up. "So why'd you come here?"

She hesitated, weighing the possible answers. "For the coffee," she said matter-of-factly.

Hiding his disappointment, Jess nodded and turned to grab the pot.

Remembering something, a smile spread slowly across Rory's face. She peered up at him. His back was to her. "Why?" she asked, amusement evident in her voice. "Did you think I wanted to come over here and see you?"

Safely facing away from Rory, Jess smirked. Then, adopting a serious expression, he turned to her and set the full mug on the counter. "Nope."

"Just needed some coffee," Rory clarified, her eyes sparkling happily.

"I should've guessed," Jess accepted.

"That is all," she continued. "Get my caffeine fix."

"Seeing me had _nothing_ to do with it."

"Nothing at all," Rory confirmed. 

Jess nodded. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Me too," Rory agreed, sipping her coffee.

Jess smirked and moved back over to the salt shakers. Rory focused her attention on her coffee mug. The only sound in the diner was the whish of salt being poured into the shakers. For a long time, neither of them said anything, but every once in a while – at the exact same moment – without even looking at each other – they smiled.


	15. Perfect

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 15: Perfect**

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own anything, quite literally._

**_A/N_**_: Dedicated to the Lits at stars-hollow.org for their never-ending support and encouragement, particularly but not exclusively Marissa, Sid, Dani, Lisa, Ali, Elise, and Katie; and in honor of all the writers whose work I enjoy. I hope this chapter lives up to everyone's expectations. ~Becka_

"Oh! Oh! Look up _Howard the Duck_!" Lorelai exclaimed as she eagerly watched Rory flip through the squat film guide she held in her hands.

"Okay, _Howard the Duck," Rory repeated, scanning her eyes across the page. "Steve Gerber's sarcastic comic book creation is unwisely turned into a live-action character for this hopeless mess of a movie, set in Cleveland. Gargantuan production produces gargantuan headache."_

"Geez, Leonard, tell us how you really feel," Lorelai scoffed in disappointment. "Does he not realize the celebrities that were born because of that film?"

"Like who?" Rory asked, skeptical.

"Well, there was Tim Robbins," Lorelai reminded her. "And Lea Thompson."

"Lea Thompson?"

"Without _Howard the Duck, there would have been no _Caroline in the City_."_

"Yet another potential tragedy averted."

"I refuse to imagine a world without syndicated episodes of _Caroline in the City," Lorelai disputed. "It would be like imagining a world without clogged toilets or black jellybeans."_

"You're right. Life's imperfections are what make it special."

"Oh, speaking of which, look up _April Fool's Day_!"

"It isn't gonna be pretty," Rory warned her even as she flipped backward in the book.

Lorelai shook her head and took a sip of coffee. "What fault could Leonard possibly find with that movie? Three words: Muffy. Saint. John. You can't go wrong."

"Practical joker invites college pals to spend a weekend in her family's mansion on an off-coast island," Rory read. "One by one, they're threatened and killed. Attempt to bring humor to _Friday the 13th_ formula isn't a total washout but doesn't quite click, either."

Lorelai's mouth fell open in mock horror. "That's it?"

"Yep."

"Not even a mention of Clayton Rohner? How could he leave out Clayton Rohner?"

Rory shook her head. "I don't know."

"Just one year after _Just One of the Guys_, Clayton marvels us again with his inspired performance in _April Fool's Day, and yet nothing from Leonard?"_

"You're preaching to the choir."

"I know, I know. Hmm… what's another good one? Ooh, how about _Dolls?"_

Rory turned to the appropriate page. "OK horror film from the director of _Re-Animator has unsuspecting people taking shelter from a storm in mansion owned by elderly couple who make murderous dolls. Nothing special here."_

"Nothing special?" Lorelai cried out. "_Nothing special? __Dolls is a brilliant horror film. For months afterward, I kept an eye on your Cabbage Patch Kids, just in case."_

"I never knew that."

"Well, I didn't want to scare you," she explained. "But man, I swear, sometimes, late at night, I used to hear them sharpening the ends of their hair brushes into little, pointy lethal weapons. Hey, don't you still have those dolls somewhere?"

"In my closet," Rory nervously admitted.

"I suggest sleeping with one eye open from now on."

"I _hate that movie."_

"See, genius! Leonard doesn't know what he's talking about. Give me that book!" she ordered, grabbing it from Rory's hands.

Luke approached the table and began refilling their coffee mugs. He eyed Lorelai who was furiously flipping through the book. Puzzled, he looked at Rory. "What is she doing?"

"Trying to find a movie for Movie in the Square Night," Rory explained. "Taylor passed the job on to her, but she was collapsing under the pressure, so she turned to Leonard Maltin for help."

"Yeah, Leonard Maltin, the critic qwack!" Lorelai interjected, angling the book so Rory could see it. "He gave _Troop Beverly Hills_ two and a half stars!" she complained. "Everyone knows it deserves at _least_ three for the Freddy dance scene alone."

"_Troop __Beverly Hills_?" Luke asked, confused.

"Ooh, Mom, _Troll_!" Rory cheered, pointing to another spot on the page. "If your idea of entertainment is seeing Sonny Bono metamorphose into an apartment of foliage, this is the movie for you."

"There are actually people who _don't_ consider that entertainment?" 

"Only hypothetically," Rory promised, taking the book.

"What's _Troll?" Luke asked._

"Angelic tyke is possessed by a troll," Rory read, "who takes over her body and starts turning the neighbors into seed pods that eventually turn into new trolls."

Luke's eyes widened. "You're showing _that_?"

Lorelai shrugged. "It's in the top 5. Right behind _Killer Klowns From Outer Space_. Did we look that up yet?" she asked, turning her eyes back to her daughter.

Rory shook her head. "Nope."

"Well, chop-chop!" Lorelai prodded.

Rory glanced at her watch. "Can't. I have to leave, or I'm gonna be late for school."

"No, stay!" Lorelai moaned, looking at Rory forlornly.

"Thanks to Dad's short phone call, you already got me for a half hour longer than usual," Rory reminded her. She pulled on her coat. 

"Just one more," Lorelai begged.

"No can do. It's just you, Leonard, and Luke now." Rory handed the book to her mother and headed towards the door.

"But Leonard's blind to cinematic genius," Lorelai called, "and Luke's never even heard of _Troll!" _

Rory waved good-bye and left.

Lorelai turned and looked expectantly at Luke.

"No way!" he said quickly, holding up his hands in defense before hurrying towards the counter.

Lorelai watched him go then glanced down at the movie guide, contemplating her next move. After a minute, she sighed and brought the coffee mug to her lips. Then, an idea dawning, she grinned evilly, stood, and walked to the counter.

"Friday night," she said as soon as she reached Luke.

"Let me guess," he answered without looking up. "Circus freaks invade small-town movie theater and turn the townspeople into popcorn kernels."

Lorelai smiled. "No, but that's good."

"Whatever it is, I don't want to know."

"It's not a movie."

Luke looked up. "Then what is it?"

"A plan. For Friday night. You. Me. Cooking lessons. You offered, remember?"

"That was weeks ago. I was hoping you'd forgotten."

"No such luck, buddy."

"Why now?"

"I'm available. You're available. Why not now?"

"How do you know I'm available on Friday?"

"Because you're always available on Fridays."

"I'm not _always available on Fridays."_

"Are you saying you aren't available on Friday?"

Luke hesitated.

Lorelai smirked. "Well?"

Giving in, he sighed. "Your place or mine?"

***

Legs dangling over the water, Jess sat on the bridge, reading. After a few moments, he sighed and lowered the book. Shifting positions, he felt his jacket pockets for a pencil. Not finding one, he frowned and considered his options. Seeming to make a decision, he opened the book and lifted it, beginning to read again. After another moment, he sighed again. A defeated look on his face, he stood up, shoved the book in his back pocket, and walked across the bridge.

***

A little while later, Jess stood in front of the Stars Hollow High School. It loomed large and prison-like above him. He pulled open the door and glanced inside. Finding the coast clear, he hurried in and headed towards class.

When he reached the door to the classroom, he squinted through the semi-transparent glass and realized that they were taking a test. As quietly and slowly as possible, he drew the door open and peered around it. The teacher's back was turned, so he slid into the room, soundlessly shut the door, and took his seat behind Lane.

"Lane," he whispered, leaning across the desk towards her. She didn't answer. 

"La-ane," he quietly sang in an attempt to annoy her into responsiveness. It worked.

"Shh!" Lane hissed, focusing on her test.

"I need a pencil," he stated.

"I don't have one."

"Then I need a pen," he pressed.

Lane glanced at the clock. "You only have fifteen minutes left."

"Then I need the answers," he said with mock sincerity.

"There's a pen in my bag."

"I can't go through your bag."

"Yes, you can," Lane assured him, flipping through her test.

"My mother told me never to go through a lady's bag," Jess explained. "At least, not until you're a couple blocks away." He paused for a beat. "I'm just kidding, she never said that. Though it sounds like pretty good advice, doesn't it?"

Lane reached into her bag and pulled out a pen. "Take it and shut up!" she said, handing it to him over her shoulder. 

"Well, I tell you, it's true – small towns sure are friendly," Jess answered. Now in possession of what he came to get, he pulled out his book and settled back into his chair to jot down notes in the margins, missing the look of exasperation on the teacher's face when she noticed his presence.

***

"Okay, class," the teacher announced immediately after the bell had rung. "Time's up! Please turn in your tests on your way out the door."

Several students groaned, but they all stood and began gathering their things. Lane picked up her backpack and walked to the front of the room to turn in her test. As she headed out the door, Jess jogged to catch up with her. 

"Thanks for the pen," he said, holding it out to her.

She glanced at him but continued down the hallway. "Keep it."

Jess shrugged and slid it into his pocket. "Okay."

Lane shook her head. "Why did you even bother to come? You missed the whole test."

"I needed a pencil," Jess stated simply.

"You needed a _pencil_?" Lane asked in disbelief. "That's it?"

"Yep."

"You came to school – to a class where a _test was being given – and flaunted the fact that you were neither sick nor dead nor in mourning because you needed a __pencil?"_

Jess nodded. "Pretty much."

"Unbelievable! Wouldn't it have been easier to just go home and get one?"

"New York's _awfully far away."_

Lane rolled her eyes. "Not New York, the diner."

"Ah, but Luke's at the diner," Jess pointed out.

"So?" 

"So I'd get caught."

"You don't think the teacher just caught you in there?"

"That teacher couldn't care less if I'm in class or not. Luke, however, seems to feel some sort of moral obligation to care."

"Okay, fine, so go to Doose's and buy a pencil," Lane suggested.

"Didn't have any money."

"Right. Of course," Lane nodded. Then, after a pause, she looked at him. "Did you ever consider just taking the test?"

Jess shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not? You're smart. You probably wouldn't even have to study."

"Tests are a waste of time."

"Tests are how you get a diploma."

"I can always just buy one off the internet," Jess stated.

Lane chuckled and turned towards her next class. "Get some pencils while you're at it."

"Will do," Jess agreed, heading for the main door.

"Where are you going?" Lane asked, stopping abruptly when she noticed he'd veered away.

"I got a pen," he said, holding it up as he backed towards the door. "My work here is done."

"So, despite already being here _in_ the building, you're just leaving?" Lane asked in disbelief.

"Yep."

"To read?"

Jess shrugged. "Probably."

"You're skipping school to _read_?"

"It looks that way."

Lane nodded in acceptance. "Okay. Sure. Great. But just so you know, that makes _no sense."_

"Maybe so, but when does anything _really_ make sense in Stars Hollow?" Jess asked before walking out the door.

Lane watched him leave then turned to walk the rest of the way to class. "Point taken."

***

"Okay, well, thanks to Leonard Maltin's input this morning, all of the worthwhile horror films are out," Lorelai said, putting her list on the diner counter and crossing off several titles.

"No one said you have to listen to Leonard," Rory reminded her.

"Honey, there are four bazillion movies worthy of being shown on Movie in the Square Night, we have to listen to someone."

"In that case, you'd better cross off _My Boyfriend's Back_ and _Once Bitten_."

"What?" Lorelai protested. "Jim Carrey!"

"Leonard has spoken," Rory said sadly.

"Fine," Lorelai accepted, crossing the names off the list. "But Leonard has officially reached his say quota."

"Deal."

"What about _The__ Sound of Music? Great plot, great music, Christopher Plummer looking particularly delicious."_

"Kirk getting 'Do-Re-Mi' stuck in his head and serenading us with it for the next two months."

Lorelai scratched it out. "Consider it gone. _9½ Weeks_?"

"Miss Patty would love it, but I don't think the rest of the town is quite ready for it yet."

"You're probably right," Lorelai agreed. "This is good. We're definitely narrowing it down."

"Oh no!" Rory exclaimed, glancing at the list. "We forgot _The Princess Bride."_

"_Roman Holiday_."

"_When Harry Met Sally_."

Lorelai added them to the list. "And we're right back where we started."

"Not true," Rory argued. "We are one film short of where we started."

"Okay, maybe we just need some set criteria."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Lorelai said, thinking. "Like nothing with Richard Gere."

"Fair enough."

Lorelai crossed off _Pretty Woman_ and _An Officer and a Gentleman._

"Nothing with Keanu Reeves," Rory added.

Lorelai nodded. "Good, good." She glanced through the list. "Wait, we didn't pick anything with Keanu Reeves. How about a Baldwin instead?"

"Works for me."

"In fact," Lorelai continued. "How about _all_ of the Baldwins?"

"Now you're talkin'," Rory encouraged.

Lorelai went through the list and started crossing off more titles. The diner bell rang, and Rory glanced back in time to see Jess walk through it, book in hand. He walked as he read, scooting effortlessly around tables, towards the counter, and up the stairs. He disappeared before Lorelai even had the chance to see him walk by.

"Okay," she commented, looking up. "It's definitely dwindling."

Rory smiled to herself and turned back to look at the list. "You missed _The Usual Suspects."_

"What? Kevin Spacey. Gabriel Byrne. Kevin Pollack."

"And Stephen Baldwin," Rory reminded her.

"How did the star of _Bio-Dome_ manage to get a role in _The Usual Suspects_?"

"Only the casting couch knows for sure," Rory quipped.

"Ew! Stephen Baldwin?!?" 

"Probably confused him with Billy."

Lorelai nodded. "An honest mistake. Ooh, hey, if we take off _Fletch and _Urban_ __Cowboy, we're down to seventy-five possibilities."_

Rory sighed. "This is hopeless. How are we gonna pick just one?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should do like a movie marathon weekend. You know, just show one movie after the other for three days and charge everyone a fortune, gouge 'em on bottled water, have those really disgusting bathrooms – it'd be like our own Woodstock."

Rory nodded, considering the idea.

"Ah, good, there you are!" Taylor interrupted, suddenly appearing beside them. "I have something for you."

"What?" Lorelai asked.

"This," he stated, dropping a heavy binder onto the counter in front of them.

Lorelai flinched. "Geez!"

"Now, when you get through this and make your decision, the number of the man you need to contact is on the first page," Taylor explained.

"What man? What is this?"

"This is the list of titles that are available for you to pick from for the movie night."

"The list of titles?" Lorelai repeated. "I'm sorry, can't we just pick our own movie?"

"You're not serious?"

"Not often, but just there – yeah, I had some serious going."

"My dear girl," Taylor said patronizingly. "Movies are expensive, and we get fabulous deals with this particular place. They have a wide selection, and they're friendly, and since it all goes to charity, they agree to give us anything on that list for free."

"So we have to pick a movie off _this_ list?"

"Oh, it's fun," Taylor assured her as he opened the binder. "They put the movie title over here," he pointed out. "And a brief description of the storyline over here and believe me, there are some _excellent_ movies on that list. Really. Top-notch."

Lorelai looked down at the list and began to read. "_Arctic_ _Flight_ – man with plane flies charter to Alaska, hired by bear hunter who turns out to be Russian spy, love story develops with pilot and school teacher. Eskimos do tribal dance. You made this up!"

"Don't I wish," Taylor bemoaned. "Okay, well, I can't wait to see what you come up with. Bye girls."

"Bye," Lorelai answered, distracted.

"_Killer __Shark," Rory read._

"Oh."

"Shark fisherman on ocean, Mexican cantina with tequila and Mariachi music, has good scene of catching and cleaning shark."

"_Where __Are _Your_ __Children?" Lorelai continued. "Hip music and singing about kids getting into trouble, sneaking booze into clubs, stealing car, fight between girls, romance starts then guy goes in the Navy."_

"Huh," Rory commented. "_Sudden_ _Danger – mom dies of gas asphyxiation, son blamed, good kiss scene."_

"_Suspense_. Ice skater falls in love with hired help. _Well_, at least now I know how _Snow_ _Dogs got made."_

"Hey," Luke greeted the girls as he hurried through the door. "Have you seen Jess?"

"I think I saw him go upstairs earlier," Rory said, trying to sound casual.

Luke sighed. "Oh, great, thanks." Without another word, he hurried upstairs to the apartment.

"Wonder what he did now," Lorelai commented.

"Who?"

"Jess."

"Why do you think Jess did something?"

"Just a hunch. Ooh, hey, listen to this one. _Dear_ _So_-_and-_So_ – Lonely man is determined to write important letter. Spends whole movie in room, trying to decide on recipient. Like _Castaway_ but without the plane crash, deserted island, or Wilson. That sounds good, huh?"_

"I'm moved by just the description."

"Or there's always _Rinse_ _Cycle. Experience the inner workings of a washer firsthand. Educational __and exciting."_

"Wow, they even have documentaries."

"I'm starting to think there's something for everyone in this not-so-little binder," Lorelai said, patting it lovingly.

Rory nodded and leaned closer. "_Up_, _Up, _and_ _Away_ – Dysfunctional family bonds during a kite-flying excursion. Hey!" she protested. "That sounds like a rip-off of _Mary_ __Poppins."_

"Oh, honey, I'm sure _Mary_ _Poppins_ ain't got nothin' on that movie."

Rory frowned. "_Bio_-_Dome is suddenly looking better and better."_

"I feel like I should put it on our list."

"But that list is useless."

"It'd make me feel better."

Rory pulled the old list out from under the heavy binder and handed it to her mother. "Write away."

"The Baldwins didn't deserve our disapproval," Lorelai said sadly as she scribbled some titles onto the list.

"The binder does sort of put everything into perspective, doesn't it?"

"Gifts from Taylor tend to do that," Lorelai agreed. After jotting down a few more films, she paused, pen poised over the paper. "Hey, do you think we can con that place into sending us some free copies for our own personal enjoyment?"

Rory grinned and eyed the binder. "As research… for next year."

"It only seems right. We wouldn't want to prejudge."

"Definitely not," Rory agreed.

"Okay, which ones?" Lorelai asked, pulling the binder forward.

"Well, I hear you haven't seen a good kiss scene until you see _Sudden _Danger_."_

"Ooh, and the Eskimo tribal dance!" Lorelai quickly added.

"We can have a marathon. It'll be like bad movie heaven."

"We shall cringe until we can't cringe anymore!" Lorelai declared.

"Hey, no prejudging, remember."

"Sorry. Right, right. Okay, one more and we'll have a triple feature. Let's see," Lorelai pondered, flipping through the pages.

Suddenly, Jess emerged from the curtained stairway and, without a word, walked straight out the door. Both of the Gilmores watched him go then turned back to each other.

"Guess my hunch was wrong," Lorelai sarcastically admitted.

Rory frowned. "He probably just had somewhere to be."

"Ri-ight."

"I thought you were looking for another movie."

Lorelai grinned triumphantly and turned back to the binder. "I am."

***

A couple of hours later, Jess walked back into the diner and, seeing no sign of Luke, breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed or wanted was another lecture. He hurried across the room and headed upstairs. When he entered the apartment, he immediately moved towards the bed and started searching around it for the pen Lane had given him earlier.

"Hey."

Jess started and looked towards the voice. Luke stared back at him from his seat at the kitchen table. Recovering quickly, Jess shook his head and turned back to what he was doing. "I thought I told you not to wait up."

"It's five-thirty in the evening."

"I know," Jess answered, glancing over his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be napping? Oh, wait, sorry, 'resting your eyes'," he finger-quoted. 

"I don't nap."

Jess smirked. "Sure you don't."

"It was _one time," Luke clarified. "And I think I was coming down with something."_

"Yeah," Jess chuckled. "Old age."

"It was probably a twenty-four hour bug. Maybe even a virus. Or some sort of flu."

"Is _that what the kids call it these days?" Jess asked._

"I got you a tutor," Luke said, abruptly changing the subject.

Jess turned his full attention to his uncle, anger clearly written all over his face. "You did _what_?"

"Got you a tutor," Luke calmly repeated. "Did you think I was kidding earlier?"

"You got me a _tutor_?" Jess said in disbelief. "Jesus, I'm not Abel Makay."

"This is your future, Jess. I'm not going to let you throw it away just because you don't want to go to school."

"Your concern is touching, Uncle Luke," Jess replied sarcastically, turning back to his search.

"It's like your principal said… I think if you just had a little help. I don't know. Encouragement or—"

"Please stop," Jess interrupted. "You're gonna make me cry."

"C'mon, Jess. Just give it a chance."

Jess shook his head. "No, thanks. I think I'll just stick to failing." 

"So what am I supposed to tell her when she gets here tonight?"

"The tutor's a she?" Jess chuckled, glancing at Luke. "Do you think that's wise?"

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, confused.

Jess smirked but didn't answer. Finally locating his pen, he shoved it into his coat pocket and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"It's Rory," Luke called, hoping to get his nephew's attention.

Jess paused and turned around. "What's Rory?"

"Rory's your tutor. I asked her earlier today."

"Oh yeah? How'd Lorelai feel about that?" Jess asked, suddenly amused.

"She thinks it's a good idea."

"Sure she does."

"We both think Rory could help. She likes to study, and she's good at it," Luke explained. "And you two seem to li—"

"Fine."

Jess's response took Luke by surprise. "Huh?"

"Rory's my tutor."

"Just like that?"

Jess nodded. "Yep."

Luke stood up and rubbed his hands together victoriously. "Great. That's great. She'll teach. You'll study. Hey, you might even pass."

"Ter-rif-ic," Jess drawled.

Luke walked towards the door and, pausing, gave Jess a fatherly pat on the back. Then, without another word, he headed downstairs to the diner.

Once he was gone, Jess took off his jacket and pulled the book from his back pocket. Sinking onto the bed, he began to read, a small smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.

***

"Here's a copy of the film," Kirk stated, handing his movie to Lorelai.  "Take a look and call me. And remember, I can edit out two of the hells, but I need to keep all the damns. It's a street cred thing."

Lorelai looked down at the tape and smiled. "Bye Kirk."

He walked out the diner door, and Lorelai turned to Rory. "Kirk's a filmmaker."

"I heard."

"Kirk _makes films, which means Kirk has a video camera."_

Rory's nose scrunched up. "Oh, yeah."

"I'm slightly frightened by this new information."

"As you should be," Rory agreed.

"You do realize that I can't not show this on Movie Night. No matter how disturbing or awful it is."

Rory nodded. "It would be wrong to deprive the people."

"Well, at least now I have something fun to do tonight."

"You're not watching that without me," Rory argued.

"Okay, I'll wait," Lorelai agreed. "So, um… ooh, do you wanna get some pie?"

"No, I'm full."

"Coffee? How 'bout some coffee?"

"I'm good."

"Hot chocolate?" Lorelai tried again.

"No, thanks."

"Egg cream?" Lorelai asked, slightly desperate. "Now, I've never had an egg cream, but it sounds just disgusting enough to be fabulous."

"We're just going to study," Rory reassured her.

"I know."

"And we'll be right here doing it."

"I know."

"So all this stalling is completely unnecessary."

"I know."

"So go," Rory prodded.

"Why exactly does Jess need a tutor again?" Lorelai asked, still sitting.

Rory sighed. "Because he's failing school."

"Oh, right. So your job is to…"

"Help him learn the material," Rory finished.

"And what? Draw him little maps of Stars Hollow, so he can see where the school actually is?"

"If the need arises."

"I still don't see how this is your problem."

"Mom…"

"Fine, fine. It's just, judging from past experience – and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, your outings with Jess seem to lead to criminal activity."

"Only the outings I didn't tell you about," Rory reminded her.

"_That's supposed to make me feel better?"_

"Well, you know about this one, so yes."

Lorelai looked at her skeptically.

"Nothing's gonna happen. We'll study. Take notes. Possibly eat food. That's all."

"No property damage?"

"None."

"No theft?"

"Definitely not."

"No breaking and entering?"

"We never did that in the first place."

"Just checking," Lorelai teased.

"We aren't even going to leave the diner," Rory assured her. "We'll be right here all night. I promise."

Lorelai eyed her daughter, knowing full well that, despite the events of the recent past, she had no reason to doubt her. She sighed. "I've officially turned into my mother."

Rory frowned. "It's my fault. I'm the one who lied."

"Aw," Lorelai dismissed, smiling reassuringly. "To be honest, your Stepford-like perfection always scared me anyway. I was beginning to think they gave me the wrong baby in the hospital."

"Nope, you're stuck with me."

"Well, I can imagine worse things to be stuck with," Lorelai said, standing and kissing the top of her daughter's head. 

"Hey Teach," Jess greeted, approaching their table.

"See," Lorelai whispered teasingly. "Worse things."

Rory shook her head but smiled nonetheless. 

"You guys done yet?" he asked.

"Not just yet," Lorelai answered.

"Okay, well, I'll be right over there when you are," he said, pointing to the counter. "I just can't _wait_ for that learning to begin," he enthused. "Hey, are we gonna do some of those Schoolhouse Rock songs?"

"I'll be right there, Jess."

"Cause they say if you _just_ make learning fun," he quipped.

"Give us a minute, okay?" Lorelai asked.

"Well, hurry," Jess mocked, backing away. "A mind is a _terrible thing to waste."_

"Nice to see he's taking this so seriously," Lorelai stated, annoyed.

"I'll be home early."

"For the record, I didn't forbid homicide," Lorelai joked.

Rory smiled. "Noted."

"Okay. I'll see you at home."

"Bye Mom."

"Bye Jess," Lorelai called.

Jess nodded formally. "Ma'am."

Lorelai glared at him and walked out the door.

As she left, Rory stood up and walked over to Jess at the counter. "So are you ready to start?"

"Yes, I am."

"Where are your books?"

"Huh," Jess answered, pretending to think. "I don't know."

"How are we gonna study without your books?"

"I guess we can't," Jess said quickly. "Too bad. So what now – movie?" 

"Get your books," Rory calmly ordered.

"The cat ate 'em."

"Get your books or I'm going home," she clarified, turning to grab her coat from the table.

Jess frowned, thinking. "Wait there!" he said, pointing at her to stop. He tapped his fingers on the counter, trying to come up with a plan. He quickly grabbed something off the counter and turned to face her. Without a word, he waved a cloth napkin in the air. Rory watched, puzzled.

After showing her that there was nothing hidden behind it or inside it, he held it in place then ran it over his left hand before whipping it aside to reveal a shiny, red apple underneath. Rory looked at it skeptically while he tapped it with his finger, silently urging her to take it. She sighed and picked it up. Satisfied, Jess turned and headed upstairs to get his books. Rory watched him go, a small smile creeping across her face.

***

A few minutes later, Jess returned to the table and plunked a stack of heavy textbooks onto its surface. 

"There. Books," he stated as he took a seat across from her.

"A definite step in the right direction," Rory replied. "What classes are you taking?"

"A trick question already? Aren't you supposed to ease me into those?" he asked. "Give me a chance to feel secure in my knowledge? Offer me a gold star or two? What kind of tutor are you? Have you ever even done this before?"

"Classes. Now," Rory repeated, trying to sound firm.

"Fine, let me think," he answered. "Uh, Boredom 101. Asinine 102. Or was it Useless Knowledge 102?"

Rory shook her head. "Let's just take a look at your books, shall we?"

"If we must."

"Hmm… United States History," she stated, looking through the stack. "English, Geometry, and Human Biology."

Jess smirked. "I can't _wait_ to see how we study for that."

Rory glanced up at him, her cheeks turning slightly red. When he raised an eyebrow at her in response, she immediately looked back down at the books, grabbing the history text off the stack. "US History, it is."

"It's always smart to save the best for last," Jess agreed.

Rory ignored him. "Can you at least tell me what chapter you're on?"

"In which book?" Jess asked, feigning innocence. "I've been switching back and forth lately, depending on my mood. A little Saul Bellow; some Hermann Hesse."

Rory sighed. "Jess…"

"Chapter 26."

"Thank you," she said gratefully as she turned to the appropriate page. "Ooh, the Cold War."

"Bo-ring," Jess sang, leaning back in his chair.

Rory looked up from the book. "History doesn't have to be boring."

"No, actually, I think it does," Jess disputed. "History is synonymous with boring. It's an unwritten academic law."

Rory shook her head in disagreement. "You just have to find a way to connect with it, so you want to learn it, regardless of tests or grades."

"Ah, but haven't you heard it's destined to repeat itself?" Jess shot back. He shrugged. "I'll catch it the second time around."

"Archduke Ferdinand," Rory stated.

"What about him?" Jess asked.

"He made history interesting."

"Wow! Archduke Ferdinand teaches at Chilton?" Jess asked sarcastically.

Rory glared at him. "No. I mean, there was this story about him in a history textbook I had to read years ago. About his assassination and how it happened. Apparently, they changed his route, but at one point, the driver made a wrong turn and ended up on the original route. The general riding with them told them they had to turn around and go down the alternate route, and it was only when they did that that Ferdinand was assassinated. If they'd stayed on the original route or never taken that wrong turn, he probably wouldn't have been killed."

"Guy couldn't win," Jess commented, pretending to be bored.

"Exactly. It's like it was fate. Like he was meant to be killed, no matter what he did. After all, if he hadn't, the course of the world would've been dramatically different. _Everything_ would've been different. If only they hadn't changed his route. It's fascinating. Reading that makes you see him as a real person instead of some random historical name. The key to learning history is to search for the humanity beneath all of the facts and dates they throw out at you. A lot of times, if you get involved in the story, you learn all of the other stuff along the way."

"You're telling me that there's actually something interesting in _that textbook?" Jess asked._

Rory glanced down at it and frowned. "Not necessarily," she admitted.

"Gee, thanks, this really helped," Jess joked.

"Okay, so maybe there won't be a story like that in here, but you can find things outside this textbook that might make you want to read it anyway. If something about the topic matters to you, you might have an interest in learning it."

"Well, I sure can't think of anything," Jess dismissed.

Rory paused for a minute, thinking. Then, excited, she looked up at him. "_Every Breath You Take by the Police."_

"Good song," Jess acknowledged.

"_99 Luftballoons_?" Rory threw out.

Jess looked at her curiously. "A classic."

"_Ivan Meets G.I. Joe."_

"By The Clash?" Jess asked.

"That's the one," Rory nodded proudly. "What do they have in common?"

Jess shrugged. "They don't suck."

"Besides that," Rory replied, smiling.

Jess thought for a moment then smirked. Rolling his eyes, he said mechanically, "They're all about the Cold War."

"Ding-ding-ding!" Rory cheered. "See, I bet you already know something about the war just by listening to those songs."

"You're telling me I should care about the Cold War because a few bands wrote songs about it?"

"Or you could care because you want to figure out why people have drawn parallels between the Cold War and _Star Trek_," Rory suggested.

"Those people have too much time on their hands."

"C'mon, if people have written songs about it and compared it to television shows, there has to be _something_ interesting about it."

"The fact that you know people compared it to television shows is actually a little frightening," Jess commented.

"They had a CNN series about it," she explained.

"You watched a CNN series on the Cold War?" Jess asked incredulously.

Rory smiled, unembarrassed. "Yep."

"Okay, then _you_ can just tell me why people compare the Cold War to _Star Trek_."

"Nope, you'll have to figure it out yourself," Rory replied, pushing the book his direction.

Jess looked down, tempted for a moment. Then, he pushed it back towards her. "You want some coffee?" he asked, not even waiting for her answer before he stood up and walked towards the counter.

Rory watched him go, grinning. She could tell she'd almost convinced him.

A moment later, he returned with two mugs and set them down. He took his seat across from her, clearly amused. Without missing a beat, he looked at her and smirked. "What were we talking about again?"

"Cold—" Rory began before being cut off by Jess.

"Right, Coldplay," Jess finished. "Did you know there are some people who don't consider them alternative?"

Rory looked at him in disbelief, her smile turning into a frown. "You're hopeless."

Jess smirked. "Don't tell me you agree with them?" he asked before launching into his defense of the band.

***

Rory looked down at the textbook, trying to ignore the fact that Jess was playing with a deck of cards. "Explain to me the political ramifications of the Marshall Plan."

Jess picked up the cards and fanned them out. "Pick a card," he stated, holding them out in front of her. 

Rory dropped her pen onto the book and looked up at him. Snatching the cards from his hand, she threw them to the ground. 

"Huh," he said, glancing down at where the cards had fallen. "Well, that just made the trick a little bit harder."

"Jess, focus," Rory reprimanded.

"Where's Dean tonight?" he asked, playing with the apple he'd given her earlier.

"We just went over this. There's no way you already forgot it."

"Work?" Jess asked, ignoring her.

"I will make you write it out fifty times on the specials board if that's what it takes."

"Cause if he's not at work, he must be free, so he doesn't care that you're here?"

"No, he doesn't," Rory answered. "He's visiting his grandmother."

"Where?"

"Chicago."

Jess nodded. "So he doesn't know."

"It wouldn't matter."

"So you'll tell him when he gets back?" Jess pushed.

"We're studying," Rory reminded him.

"You're studying," he clarified. "I'm prying into your personal life."

Rory sighed. "Jess, why won't you at least try to remember the Marshall Plan?"

"Haven't found my personal connection with it yet," Jess teased.

"This is ridiculous."

"Do you keep a lot of things from Dean?" 

"No," Rory said abruptly. "Of course not."

"Does he know you hate basketball?"

Rory didn't answer.

"Didn't think so. What about destroying the snowman, does he know about that?"

"This is getting us nowhere," Rory mumbled.

"I just think it's interesting that I know things about you that he doesn't," Jess explained.

"Well, he knows things about me that you don't know," Rory defended.

"Like what?" Jess asked, intrigued.

"Could we please just study history?"

Jess smirked. "I am. Yours and Dean's."

"It's none of your business."

"Ooh, touchy," Jess remarked.

"Look," Rory said, meeting his eyes. "I'm here to help you study. If you want me to go, I'll go, but if I'm going to stay, then you _will_ stop distracting me and pay attention, understand?"

Jess looked at her intently. "Who said I wasn't paying attention?"

"Understand?" Rory repeated, forcing herself to maintain eye contact.

Jess nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now open your book," Rory demanded, turning her eyes back to the text in front of her.

Jess flipped open his book but kept his eyes on her, amusement dancing across his lips.

***

"Okay, I think we finally figured it out!" Rory declared, looking down at the completed geometry problem with obvious pride.

"Actually, you figured it out," Jess pointed out.

Rory paused, running her eyes across the paper. "Oh," she said sadly. "Well, it was just a warm-up anyway."

"Yeah," Jess joked. "I'm sure I'll figure out the next one."

"You will," Rory assured him. She looked in the book for the next problem. "This one actually doesn't look too bad," she promised.

"Right," Jess scoffed. "You hungry?"

"What?" Rory asked, looking up, her brow still scrunched in concentration.

"There's apple pie," he said, pointing to the counter.

Rory hesitated.

"I have to get up and lock the door anyway," Jess urged.

Confused, Rory finally looked around at the rest of the diner and noticed that everyone had left. "How'd that happen?" she asked, surprised.

Jess chuckled and stood up to lock the door. Then, he headed towards the counter. "Last chance. Pie? No pie?"

"Pie," Rory agreed.

Jess nodded and went to retrieve it. While he did that, Rory scribbled notes on a sheet of paper, trying to solve the problem, so she could help him if he couldn't get it.

A few moments later, he returned and set the pie pan on the table. As she continued to problem-solve, he scooped a piece onto each plate. "Here you go," he said, handing her one. She set down her pencil and took it gratefully, immediately stabbing her fork into its crust and taking a bite. Jess grabbed his own plate and sat down in the chair beside her.

She stopped chewing and looked at him questioningly.

"I need to see the diagram," he stated, gesturing at the book.

Seeming to accept his explanation, Rory took another bite of pie then set down her plate. She moved the book so they could both see it and began to read.

"The cube on the left below has a surface area of 96 centimeters squared."

Jess kept eating but looked down at the diagram.

Grateful that he was finally paying attention, Rory continued, "An ant is walking around the outside of the cube in straight paths – where we define a straight path in this case as one formed by the edges of a cross-section created by a plane slicing through the cube. For example, to get from point Q to point R in the picture above on the right, the ant walks along the red path. There are many different straight paths the ant can take, as you can imagine by slicing the cube with different planes. Question 1: Describe and find the length of the shortest possible path the ant could take to get from point A to point G."

Finished, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Not a word of that made sense," he said, setting down his plate.

Rory chuckled. "Yeah, not really."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you think the world will end if he takes the scenic route?" 

"Actually, Question 2 is about the scenic route."

"You're kidding?" 

Rory pointed at the textbook, and Jess looked down. 

"I'm never going to care about this," he said bluntly.

Not a big fan of geometry herself, Rory nodded. "Fair enough. Shakespeare?"

"Please."

Rory grinned and switched books. A paper was sticking out of the edge of the book, so she opened it up to that page and pulled it out. Unfolding it, she peered inside. "You kept the syllabus?" she asked, astonished.

Jess glanced at it. "Is that what that is?"

Rory smiled and read over the sheet. "According to this, you're supposed to memorize a passage of _Othello_."

"I've never understood that," Jess scoffed, shaking his head.

"_Othello_?"

"Memorization," he clarified. "What's the point?"

"Well," Rory began, searching for a valid reason. She frowned.

"Yes?" he prodded, folding his arms in anticipation of her answer.

"I hear that stuff is great at cocktail parties," she offered weakly.

"Well, that'll come in handy."

"I didn't write the assignment," Rory defended.

"You're right. It's way before your time. More of an _ancient form of torture," Jess explained. "All designed to make you memorize some random poem or Shakespearean passage that will do you no good later in life, except to annoy your kids."_

"Kids?" Rory repeated, not following him.

"The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor, and the highwayman came riding – riding – riding – The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door." 

"You memorized _The Highwayman_?" Rory asked.

"My _mother memorized __The Highwayman," Jess clarified. "About a thousand years ago. It was her one crowning achievement in school, and she never let me forget it. I can't even count how many times I heard that poem when I was a kid."_

"Wow, the whole thing? It's long," Rory commented.

"You're telling me?" Jess said incredulously. "Torture."

Rory smiled.

"And what's even worse," Jess continued. "Is that it's permanently burned into _my mind now too. Memorization is inhumane."_

"It's too bad you don't have to memorize _The Highwayman_ for school," Rory joked.

"That's their other trick. Never repeat the same poem. That way, future generations are guaranteed to suffer."

"But you've read _Othello_ before, right? Maybe you already have something partially memorized," she suggested.

Jess rolled his eyes. "I'm not memorizing anything."

"Please."

"No way!" Jess stated firmly.

"Just try," Rory said, handing him the book. "Pick out a passage."

He looked at her – her pleading puppy dog eyes in full force – and, with a sigh, took the book.

***

"Done," Jess declared, finishing the last couple of words and handing the paper to Rory.

He waited while she examined his work. "This isn't Shakespeare," she frowned.

"It's not?" he asked innocently.

"It's the words to a Clash song."

"Ah, now, but which Clash song?" Jess asked, gesturing towards the sheet.

"Hey, I'm not the one being tested right now," Rory complained.

"Ten seconds," Jess threatened, holding his watch up so he could see it.

"Jess."

"Nine, eight, seven."

"Stop it," Rory ordered.

"Six, five, four."

"You know, you're really starting to…"

"Three."

"Ooh, ooh!" she exclaimed happily. "_Guns of Brixton."_

"A-plus," Jess drawled.

Rory grinned proudly. Then, pausing, she looked at him. "Why would you even agree to this studying thing in the first place?"

"Because Luke said I had to," Jess said simply.

"You've never done anything because someone said you had to."

"I moved here because someone said I had to," he reminded her.

"Very different."

"Yeah, well," he mumbled. He dipped his finger into the pie then licked off the filling that clung to its surface. "Hey," he said, looking up at her. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"I'm sick of studying," he explained as he stood up and walked to the diner door.

"How can you be sick of studying? You haven't _done_ any studying. You've done card tricks, you've made coffee, you've tried to explain to me how on earth Coldplay could be considered an alternative band, but as of yet, no studying."

"That's your car?" Jess asked, peering through the blind slats.

"Yes, it is."

Jess hurried over to her and took his seat. "Okay, tell you what. Let's go get some ice cream, and then, when we get back, I'll study."

"This is a diner, there's ice cream here."

"Yes, but we don't have any cones."

"Cones?"

"I need cones."

"Well," Rory said, considering the idea. "So, if we go get ice cream…"

"In cones," Jess added.

"Then you will be a perfect student for the rest of the night?"

"That's right," he agreed.

The idea was tempting, but suddenly, Rory remembered her promise to her mother. "I can't."

"Did you just hear me offer to study?" 

"Yes, I did, but…"

"That's a once in a lifetime offer."

"I realize that but…"

"But what?" he asked, confused.

"Well," Rory began. "Quite frankly, I've seen no proof that your offer is any good."

"What do you mean?"

"You blew off history, flat-out refused to care about geometry, and recited a Clash song instead of a Shakespeare passage."

"I promise I'll study," Jess tried again. "Ants in cubes, Soviet espionage, whatever you want."

"Sorry. I need proof."

Jess shook his head. "You'll just have to trust me."

Rory crossed her arms over her chest and waited, her eyes on Jess. He stared back at her for a minute, hoping to call her bluff.

When she didn't waver, he sighed. "Fine. The Marshall Plan was a proposal of American foreign aid intended to assist the rehabilitation of Western Europe," he robotically recited. "Not only did it restore economic stability to the area, but it helped restore political stability and shield Europe and the rest of the world from the spread of Communism. Happy?"

Rory faltered, taken aback that he'd picked up on anything she'd said. "You actually knew the answer?"

"Well, you kept repeating it over and over. I'd have to be an idiot not to catch on."

Rory grinned. "Interesting…"

Jess narrowed his eyes at her, not liking the expression on her face. "What?"

"What about Shakespeare?"

"He wrote some plays," Jess answered.

"I need a passage," Rory declared, settling back in her chair.

"You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Okay, fine," Jess accepted. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and, after a brief pause, began writing. After a minute or two, he stopped and read it over, then held it out to her. When she reached for it, however, he pulled it out of the way. She glared at him and held out her hand. Maintaining a straight face, he held it out again until it hovered above her palm. She lifted her hand to grab it, but he moved it just in time.

She gave up, refolding her arms over her chest. "I knew you didn't know one." 

"Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking.

She shrugged. "Guess that means no cones."

He chuckled and held the paper out to her again, but she kept her arms folded.

"Are you gonna take it?"

"No, thanks."

"C'mon, Rory, take it," he said, waving it in the air in front of her. "You know you're curious."

"It's probably just gibberish," she replied, uninterested. To prove her point, she shifted her eyes to the textbook and began flipping through the pages.

Jess raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. "A maiden," he began, locking his eyes not on the paper but on her. "_Never bold."_

Faintly recognizing the passage, Rory stopped reading and listened but didn't look up.

"Of spirit so still and quiet," he continued. "That her motion blush'd at herself."

Eyes fixed blurrily downward, Rory brushed her hair behind her ear nervously, fighting the blush rising in her own cheeks.

"And _she, in spite of nature," Jess said slowly. "Of years, of country, credit, every thing, to fall in love with what she fear'd to look on."_

Rory glanced up, her blue eyes meeting the deep brown of his.

"It is a judgment main'd," he went on softly. "And most imperfect, that will confess perfection so could err against all rules of nature, and must be driven to find our practices of cunning hell." His eyes searched hers. "Why this should be." 

A long silence hung in the air, both of them suddenly wanting something they knew they couldn't have. 

After a moment, Jess spoke, breaking the spell. "Gibberish, huh?"

Swallowing thickly, Rory blinked and looked away. "Why didn't you just write that the first time?"

He shrugged. "You weren't offering cones." He saw her glance at the math book and immediately added, "There's no way I'm doing the geometry though."

Rory smiled and, the tension gone, turned her eyes back to him. He had more than proven that she could trust him to study when they got back from getting ice cream, but her promise to her mother weighed heavily on her mind. "Okay," she accepted, an idea taking root. "No geometry, but you have to do something else instead."

Jess hesitated only briefly before asking what.

Rory grinned, knowing she was about to ask the impossible. "Make a white rabbit appear."

Jess looked confused. "What?"

"Well, you've done card tricks, quarter tricks, and apple tricks," she clarified. "So, if you really want an ice cream cone, make a rabbit appear."

Not one to give up so easily, Jess thought for a moment, looking around the room for ideas. His eyes fell on the pad of paper, and he smirked. He turned back to her. "Close your eyes."

"So you can go to the pet store?" she joked.

He shook his head. "I won't leave this room. Close your eyes."

She hesitated.

"Close. Your. Eyes," he repeated.

Too curious to resist, she did as he asked. Immediately, she heard the sound of a piece of paper being ripped from the notebook. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He quickly looked at her and saw her eyes creeping open. "Keep 'em closed," he ordered, folding the paper in half.

Rory obediently shut them again and, relying on a different sense instead, tried to find a clue among the noises he was making. All she heard was the slight rustle of paper and the soft rise and fall of their breath. 

The dark silence made her uncomfortable, so, seeking distraction, she started to talk. "I've seen those _Magicians' Secrets Revealed_ specials, you know? I'm well aware that you're probably rigging some magnetic contraption right now." She paused. "Right?"

Jess didn't respond, which only made Rory more uncomfortable. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes closed. "They weren't actually that impressive. Those specials, I mean. Anyone could figure out the secrets. Did you see them?"

He still didn't answer. Was he even there?

"Jess?" she called nervously.

"Hold on," he replied, picking up a pen.

Only marginally calmed by the sound of his voice, she began talking again. "I don't really think it's magic if your audience can't see what you're doing. For all I know, you could be breeding two rabbits right now. My eyes have been closed long enough. Although, if you already had two rabbits, it wouldn't really make a lot of sense to breed another one. Either one of the first two would do the trick. Plus, I doubt Luke just keeps rabbits lying around."

Finished, Jess set his creation on the table and turned his attention back to Rory. He could tell by the way she was fidgeting that she didn't like having her eyes closed. But he didn't tell her to open them. So she just kept babbling. As she talked, his eyes trailed over the contours of her face. The soft peach hue of her skin. The dark lashes at the ends of her closed eyes. The wisp of hair that had fallen loose against her face. The hurried, nervous movement of her lips.

If he just…

Without giving it as much thought as he probably should have, he leaned forward. She was mumbling something about being sawed in half when the feel of his lips brushing against hers suddenly cut off her words. She paused, too surprised to respond, wondering if she was imagining it. A slow shiver swept across her, followed by a flurry of soft tingles.

He pulled away.

Instinctively, she reached out, her fingers landing gently on his cheek and stopping him. She felt his whole body tense uncertainly, unsure of her next move. Without hesitation, she guided him towards her again. Beneath her touch, he relaxed and silently followed her lead. Rory smiled, a cozy warmth washing over her as she felt him draw close. For the first time in her life, she forgot to think or second-guess. She forgot there was anything to forget. Let something else take over. Let him. 

He smelled lightly of cologne and coffee. She felt his nose brush lightly against hers as he dipped his head and angled it to meet hers. For a long moment, he hovered just beyond her grasp, the feel of his breath drifting over her lips and melding with her own. Then, so close, she felt his mouth curve upwards ever so slightly. She smiled in return and captured his lips with hers. They both paused, motionless, as if they weren't sure what to do next. Then, gently, Jess began to kiss her in earnest. His jaw moved beneath her fingertips as the kiss deepened. He tasted like apples and cinnamon. Softer than she'd expected. Different. Perfect.

An unfamiliar feeling swept over Rory, and she suddenly felt dizzy. As if sensing her unsteadiness, Jess lifted his hand and trailed his fingers along the soft skin of her cheek. Little pinpricks danced across her hairline and down her spine as he delicately smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned closer but lightened the kiss so she could get her bearings.

Without warning, the reality of the situation crashed over Rory like a tidal wave, and guilty tears sprang to her eyes. She abruptly pulled away, the loss of his touch jarring her even more. She stared at the table, refusing to look at him, trying to focus. Her eyes moved wildly as she desperately tried to remember how to think. If only she could think. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of unfamiliar white, and her mind stood still. Sitting among the textbooks was a little origami rabbit. She reached out and picked it up, running her fingers across its tiny, hand-drawn eyes, nose, and whiskers. Perfectly folded. Perfectly drawn. Perfect.

"I have to go," Rory whispered, still not looking at him. She quickly gathered her books and stood up. As she reached for her coat, she hesitated. Then, she set something on the table and left.

Jess had been watching her the entire time, his refusal to look away from her just as strong as her inability to look at him. He saw her searching for answers. He saw her confusion. And, for a moment, when he saw her reaction to the rabbit, he could've sworn he'd felt something strangely similar to hope. Then, just as quickly, he watched her leave, the departing chime of the diner bell adding insult to injury. He listened, waiting. Heard a door slam. An engine rev. And then she was gone.

Running a hand through his hair, he cursed silently and lowered his eyes. He sat there for a while, staring at the table until the frustration and confusion began to slip away. Then, with a sigh, he stood and went upstairs, leaving behind his books and her perfect origami rabbit.


	16. Everything and Nothing

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 16: Everything and Nothing**

**_Disclaimer: _**_I write because it makes me happy, not because I intend to step on any toes. Without ASP, this story wouldn't exist. And that's a fact._

**_A/N_**_: To my little sister, who never fails me; to Marissa, who never needs to apologize; to all of the readers, who make writing worthwhile; and to my mom, who never insisted that I learn how to cook. Enjoy! ~Becka_

The tiny words blurred indistinctly in front of Rory's eyes as, for the thousandth time that morning, her mind drifted elsewhere. She quickly realized she wasn't focusing and pulled herself back, stubbornly fixing her eyes on the text. Moments later, she couldn't remember a single word she'd just read. Giving up, she sighed and dropped her pencil into the open spine of her textbook. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced around at the other tables. They were empty. Aside from the visibly bored person behind the main desk, the Chilton library was deserted. Rory glanced at her watch. It was barely past seven. She still had almost an hour to waste – time that would normally be spent sleeping or talking with her mom or going to the diner for breakfast. But not today. Maybe, not ever again.

Removing the pencil, she shut her book. The action was louder than she'd expected, and the bored desk worker glanced over at her in clear irritation. Rory averted her eyes and shoved her things into her backpack. Then, she stood up, slung the heavy bag over her shoulder, and headed into the stacks. There had to be at least one book in the library that could distract her from her thoughts.

Her eyes scanned across the spines of the books as she wound herself through the aisles. For the first time in her life, not a single book looked appealing – a fact that she refused to acknowledge had little to do with the books themselves. Determined, she turned around a corner to try her luck in the next aisle when, out of nowhere, a looming figure suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. She jumped, but her mind didn't get a chance to catch up with her body's reaction because, before she had time to think, the person spoke.

"I know what you're doing," the voice boomed loudly.

Rory sighed. "What are you talking about, Paris?"

"This. I know what _this_ is," she said, thrusting her pen in Rory's direction.

Still not quite recovered from her shock, Rory looked at her in confusion. "It's a pen."

"Don't patronize me," Paris warned, frustrated. "You know that's not what I meant."

Rory shifted her bag to her other shoulder. "Actually, I don't."

"Oh, great, the naïve, innocent act. It's one of my favorites. Acting like you're some saintly country bumpkin," Paris accused. "I can almost see the halo-like glow forming over your head, and the little angels with harps dancing around your shoulders." She paused. "Now that I think about it, that's pretty much your only act. And yet _you_ think you can intimidate _me_?"

"What?" Rory asked.

"This," Paris explained, gesturing wildly at their surroundings. "You," she continued, jabbing her pen menacingly towards Rory's arm.

Rory moved her arm away just in time.  "Hey," she protested. "I was just looking for a book."

"In the Chilton library? _Before_ school? You didn't come here for a book. I saw you. You were studying."

"So?"

"So suddenly you study _here_? This is where _I_ study. It's quiet, and it's peaceful. There's no Madeline and Louise yammering on and on about what color barrette they should wear. Gold? Silver? Is there _really_ a difference? I get a _lot_ of work done here. But now here _you_ come, disturbing the peace."

"It's a big library, Paris, and I happen to be very quiet."

"Oh, silly me, I must have imagined the sound of your textbook slamming earlier."

"That was an accident."

"And again, we have the harp-playing angels."

"You're acting like I never study here," Rory said. "I study here all the time."

"Correction. You study here during school hours. The only time you ever come here before or after school is to do research or meet with a group. But now, _suddenly_, you're here all the time."

"I'm not here all the time," Rory argued.

"You were here Thursday morning, Thursday evening, and now here you are again," Paris sneered. "Looks like a routine to me."

"We've had a lot of work lately."

"_That's_ your defense? We're in the post-final, pre-midterm slump. That idiot boyfriend of yours could handle the amount of work we have."

"Dean isn't an idiot," Rory defended.

"And I saw what you were reading. We don't need to read that chapter for weeks."

"This is crazy, Paris. I thought we were friends. I'm pretty sure this library is big enough for the both of us."

"So, that's it? You're going to study here all the time now?" Paris asked, her voice carrying a tinge of worry.

"Not necessarily," Rory said, shifting under the weight of her backpack. "I just…"

"Just what?"

"Nevermind. If you don't want me to study here, I won't. It's obviously not as important to me as it is to you."

Paris watched her intently for a moment. "Really?"

"Really. Whatever," Rory dismissed apathetically. "I'll leave right now." She turned to head towards the door.

"Rory," Paris said, stopping her.

Rory turned around but didn't say anything. 

Paris hesitated briefly before speaking. "We're friends?"

Rory considered the question. "In your saner moments, yeah, I think we might border on some sort of friend-ish relationship."

"Oh. No one told me," Paris replied, sounding a little confused.

Rory smiled. "There aren't usually memos."

"So we're friends," Paris repeated, accepting it as fact. She glanced at Rory and then at the door. "Wait, this is a trick, isn't it?"

"A trick?"

"So I'll let you study here."

Rory fought off a smile. "I'll see you in class, Paris," she said, heading towards the door.

"What does that mean? Is that some sort of code? Hey, I didn't agree to a secret friend language!" Paris called after her. When Rory kept walking, she raised her voice even more. "Friends or not, I better not see you here after school!"

Rory grinned and headed out the door. She had walked about halfway to the classroom before her earlier thoughts returned. The thoughts she'd been desperately avoiding. Jess. As she sat down in the empty classroom, she silently thanked Paris. Their brief five-minute conversation had been the longest she'd been able to distract herself in two days.

***

"Do I look fat today?" Lorelai asked Luke's back without prelude as she plopped onto a stool at the counter.

Luke paused in mid-movement, knowing the inherent dangers attached to that question. With his back still turned away from her, he pretended like he hadn't heard. "What?"

"Do I look fat today?" she repeated, glancing down at herself.

"Are you serious?" he stalled. He knew how this worked. If he said, 'no, you don't look fat today,' that meant that she might occasionally look fat just not on that particular day. If he said 'yes,' he might as well sign his death warrant.

"Yeah, I'm serious," Lorelai replied, waiting for his answer. 

Luke paused, then immediately decided on the truth. He didn't even need to look at her to know what that truth was. He resumed wiping out the glass he held in his hand as he spoke. "Even if you were wearing a potato sack filled with actual potatoes, it would still be impossible for you to look fat."

In the ensuing silence, Luke began to question his answer. But then he heard her whispered "Wow." Not quite sure what that meant, he turned to look at her. She met his eyes. "Good answer," she quietly commended.

He shrugged.

"You didn't even look. Guys _never_ pick up on that. If they look, it means there's the possibility that you _could_ look fat, under the right circumstances. Guys always look."

Luke set the glass on the counter. "I didn't need to look."

"Okay," Lorelai accepted with a nod. She glanced down at her waist. "But now that you _are_ looking, I look fat, right?"

Luke met her eyes. "No."

"I feel fat."

"Can't help you there."

"You feed me. It's _your_ fault."

"Do you want a table?" he asked, avoiding her statement.

"See, a _table_. So you can feed me and make me fat."

He folded his arms over his chest. "Fine, I'll stop feeding you."

"Aw," Lorelai protested. "You'd let me starve?"

"Don't I get any points for the potato sack thing?"

Lorelai hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously. "All right, I'll let it go."

"I appreciate it," Luke replied half-heartedly. "Now go pick a table."

"I think I'll sit here," Lorelai answered, settling in. "I hear sitting at the counter helps with weight loss."

Luke gave her a skeptical look. "Where'd you hear that?"

She smirked. "Voices in my head."

"Right. Should've guessed. Coffee?"

"You always ask, as though you think someday the answer might be different."

"Covering my bases in case a different voice takes over."

"You _actually_ think I'd allow the presence of coffee-hating voices? Voices… that hate coffee… lurking in _my_ head?" she asked, pointing at her temple. "Not gonna happen, buddy. That'd be like allowing Pat Buchanan into a Democratic convention. Or… or Wil Wheaton into the Academy Awards. It's just wrong."

"Wesley?"

"Ha!" Lorelai declared, pointing her finger at him. "I _knew_ you were a Trekkie."

"I'm getting your coffee now," Luke said, turning to grab the pot.

Lorelai grinned proudly but dropped the issue. "So, are you ready for tonight?"

Luke placed a mug in front of her and filled it with coffee. "Tonight?" he asked.

"Funny! As if you could forget! I bet it's written on your calendar… and in your planner… and on a Post-It note on your mirror… and…"

Luke looked at her blankly.

"Do _not_ tell me you forgot."

"Forgot what?"

Lorelai looked at him closely, trying to gauge his sincerity. Disappointment started to set in, as she began to accept that he really might've forgotten. 

Right as he saw her face begin to fall, Luke spoke. "Oh! You mean the cooking lessons?"

Relief washed over Lorelai's face. "That was so mean."

"I wouldn't forget," Luke assured her.

"How should _I_ know that?"

"Have I ever forgotten anything?"

"Su-ure," Lorelai stammered. "There was the… um… the… or the… okay, fine. You win. God, I _hate_ it when you win. Today is really starting to suck."

Luke smiled and grabbed a towel off the counter. "When do you want me there?"

"6?"

"That early?" Luke asked, confused.

"Well, it'll take awhile to make it, and most normal people eat in the evening hours."

"What about your dinner?"

Lorelai looked at him in confusion. "I thought the plan was to make it."

"No, dinner with your parents," Luke clarified. "Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Are you using me to get out of the dinner with your parents?"

Lorelai shook her head. "No. It's a great idea, but no. They're out of town."

"Oh."

"You thought I had dinner with my parents tonight? Why would I want to make dinner if I was already having dinner? Didn't that seem a little weird to you?"

"You, eating two dinners. Right, I _must_ be insane," Luke quipped.

"Fine. It's not so farfetched. But I couldn't even try to tackle that feat without Rory. She'd never forgive me." 

Luke glanced at the empty stool beside Lorelai. "Where _is_ Rory?"

Lorelai's mouth fell open in mock astonishment. "You _just_ noticed Rory isn't here?"

"I didn't say that."

"I can't believe you, Luke!" Lorelai teased. "My Rory, and you don't even _notice_ she's gone."

"Well," he began, searching for an explanation. "She's small… and quiet."

"I'm _so_ telling Rory about this."

"She's tiny!" he exclaimed.

"She'll appreciate that."

"Don't tell her," Luke ordered.

"Oh, I'm telling," Lorelai disagreed. She paused. "Unless…"

Luke sighed. "If anyone asks, you won every time."

Lorelai grinned triumphantly. "And the day no longer sucks."

"Great," Luke said grumpily.

"Rory's at school. Apparently, Chilton is not aware of the study that says children should only be given two hours of homework a night per every year they're in school."

Luke paused. "Rory has 22 hours of homework a night?"

"Wait, that's not right," Lorelai frowned. "Maybe it's a half hour per year?"

"That's 5 ½ hours of homework," Luke stated. "What kind of study is this?"

"Wait, um… aw, shoot. Forget it. Chilton is run by crazy people. They give her too much homework. Did you know she almost missed Movie in the Square Night?"

"Didn't you pick 'The Yearling'?" Luke asked.

"Yes."

"Didn't she see it last year?"

"Yes."

"And the year before that?"

"Yes."

"And the year before…"

"That is _not_ the point," Lorelai interrupted. "Chilton is working her too hard."

"She's smart. She'll catch up," Luke assured her.

"I know. It'd just be nice to see her occasionally." Lorelai sighed and slumped in her seat. She glanced down at her stomach and began smoothing down her shirt. "Are you sure I don't look fat?"

"Lemon poppy-seed muffin minus the poppy-seeds, please," a voice interrupted.

Luke looked at the customer. "Kirk!" he exclaimed, grateful for the interruption. "Great to see you."

Kirk backed away slightly. "You too, Luke," he said, looking at him like he had multiple heads. 

Luke walked over to get his muffin. Lorelai frowned and glanced from her stomach to Kirk. "Oh my god, Kirk! What happened?" she asked, seeing the cast that covered his entire arm and hand.

"I got hit by a dog."

"A dog?" Lorelai repeated, her eyes wide.

"Or maybe a cat. Might have been a possum," he clarified. "It was small and furry, and it came out of nowhere."

"It just ran into you while you were walking?"

"Roller-skating actually."

"That's awful," Lorelai said, looking sympathetically at his cast.

"I know. I think they might be gone permanently."

Lorelai gasped. "Your fingers?"

"No, my roller-skates. Mother took them away."

Lorelai hesitated, not sure what to say to that. "Oh. Well…"

Kirk held up his good hand to stop her. "Please. No condolences. I get weepy." Luke approached and handed him his muffin. Kirk took it in his good hand while he attempted to wipe his cast across his misty eyes with the other. The size of his hand was now considerably larger, due to the bulky cast, so he misestimated and accidentally smacked himself in the cheek. "Ow! STUPID CAST!" he shouted. Without another word, he left.

Bewildered, Luke and Lorelai watched him go then turned to each other. "Something furry hit him," Lorelai stated by way of explanation.

"I heard."

They both processed the fact for a moment. Then, after a beat, Lorelai pushed Kirk's situation aside and focused in on Luke.  "So back to that fat question…"

***

Lane glanced at the clock and, upon seeing that she still had about five minutes before class, turned back to her book and continued her last-minute cram session. The dates were always what killed her. Was it really important to know that such-and-such happened in 1978 as opposed to 1979? Or in March as opposed to May? And why exactly did the calendar inventors have to use the same letters for multiple months? Like it wasn't hard enough to remember historical facts without having to worry about whether you were supposed to be thinking January or June or July. Or April versus August, for that matter. There are twenty-six letters in the English alphabet; why give special treatment to a few? Why not go call May something like Kay instead? Or Lanuary instead of January? Was it really so difficult? 

Lane massaged her forehead in frustration and attempted to focus on the chapter summary. She was just about to flip to the next summary when she heard the desk behind her squeak as someone sat down. She paused and waited. A second later, she distinctly heard movement. She quickly glanced around at the other desks to make sure she was in the right room. Sure enough, her History classmates were seated around her, their heads buried in their books. Stunned, she blinked her eyes then she slowly shifted around in her seat to look at the student behind her. She blinked again. He was slouched down in his seat, looking down at his pencil as he tapped it gently on the desk.

"Jess?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes. "Lane," he stated simply, still tapping the pencil.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is school," he answered.

"I _know_ this is school," Lane replied slowly. "Are you sure you do?"

"I just said so, didn't I?"

"What are you doing here?" Lane repeated. 

"Generally, people my age go to school during the day," Jess explained.

"I know that," Lane repeated. "But _generally_ those people don't include you."

He shrugged and turned his attention back to his pencil.

Lane looked bewildered. "Do you realize that you're not only _in_ school," she continued, glancing at the clock. "But you're early."

"Actually, I'm right on time," Jess corrected.

"You know what time class starts?"

"I took a guess."

"Is this a joke?" Lane asked, looking around for a camera.

Jess smirked.

Lane leapt forward across his desk and grabbed his pencil from his hand, so she could get his full attention. "If this is a joke, I'm going to maim you with this pencil," she said, raising it threateningly. "I don't need this kind of distraction before a test." 

"They have pills for that, you know," Jess said, eyeing her sharpened, Number Two lethal weapon.

"This isn't funny," Lane said seriously.

"I'm not laughing."

"Is this a dream?" she asked, pinching her outstretched arm.

Jess raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "You dream about me, huh?"

"Stop it," she ordered, tightening her grip on the pencil. She glanced down at her clothes. "If this were a dream, I'd be in my underwear," she whispered in an attempt to reassure herself.

"You have dreams about me where you're in your underwear? Wow, Lane. I didn't know."

"I do _not_ have dreams about you!" she said loudly, drawing the attention of her nearby classmates. She looked at them. "Jess Mariano is in school," she explained, jabbing her pencil in his direction. 

They all shook their heads at her and turned back to their books. 

"Why aren't they finding this strange?" she asked, more to herself than to anyone else. "You do realize we have a test, don't you?" she said, turning back to him.

"I heard a rumor."

"You're going to take the test?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Haven't decided yet."

"You can't take this test."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"I hate to break this to you, Lane, but from what I've heard, Rory is the princess of this town."

"Get out," she ordered, shooing him away.

Jess looked at her like she was crazy. "What?"

"Get out! I can't take this test with you sitting here. Leave. You hate tests."

"You can't kick me out of school."

"Maybe not, but I know how to use _this_," Lane said, shaking the pencil.

"You're out of your mind."

"Get out!" Lane said, lurching forward.

"Lane," the teacher's voice called. "Is there a problem?"

Lane paused and looked over her shoulder, the pencil still clenched in her fist. "Uh, no. Not really."

"Could you take your seat, so we can start the test?"

Embarrassed, Lane nodded. She sent one last glare in Jess's direction before shifting around to face the front of the classroom. She closed her book and shoved it under her desk, then grabbed a test from her classmate's outstretched hand. As she passed the stack on to the next person, she took a deep breath and tried to focus. She was just about to read the first question when a finger tapped her on the shoulder. "What?" she hissed, darting her eyes over her shoulder.

"I need my pencil," Jess stated, amusement evident in his voice.

Lane shoved it into his hand and turned her full attention to her test.

Pencil in hand, Jess settled back in his seat and flipped his test over. He scanned the page then glanced up at Lane. She shifted uncomfortably. He smirked and shook his head. Then, he turned his attention back to the test and started writing.

***

The bell rang, dismissing Rory's final class for the day. She looked down at her notebook. Her notes were a jumbled, indecipherable mess. A lot of good those were going to do her when it was time to study for the test. Frustrated, she tore the sheets of paper from the notebook and crumpled them into a ball. Madeline looked over at her as she gathered her things. "You can borrow mine," she offered sympathetically, holding out her notebook.

Rory smiled and thanked her, even though it was likely her now-crinkled notes would be more helpful to her than Madeline's. She took the notebook. "I'll give them back on Monday."

Madeline nodded and headed out the door. With a sigh, Rory gently placed the notebook among her things and trailed behind her, dropping her paper ball into the garbage as she walked out the door.

She looked at her watch. Yet again, she had hours to kill. If she was lucky, she could convince her mother to order in Chinese food for dinner, but, even so, as soon as she got home, Lorelai would expect to go to Luke's for coffee. Rory headed down the hall.

She pulled open the large door to the Chilton library and started to walk inside. She was barely a few feet in when she saw Paris storming around, looking at the tables. Rory watched as Paris approached a brunette girl from behind and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. "You're not Rory Gilmore," she stated irritably.

"No," the girl replied, looking terrified.

"Where is she?" Paris demanded. "Have you seen her?"

"Who?" the girl asked.

"Rory Gilmore, you dimwit. Thin, brown hair, small children and animals at her feet."

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"That's great," Paris snidely remarked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin. "Here's a quarter. Buy a clue." The girl gave her a bewildered look, but Paris was already hurrying over to another table.

Not in the mood for a fight, Rory left and headed outside.

***

It wasn't long before the bus pulled up to its Stars Hollow stop, and Rory was begrudgingly walking down the steps. She paused by the bench and took a look around, evaluating her options. Her eyes fell on the Luke's Diner sign, and her stomach instinctively growled. She hadn't had a cup of Luke's coffee in two days. At that moment, she would've given practically anything for a cup of that coffee. Steeling herself, she started towards the diner. With each step she took, her confidence (and her coffee craving) grew. She was now close enough that she could smell the delicious aromas wafting through the air around her. But then she glanced in the window and saw Jess. He was busy taking customers' orders and carrying plates to and from the tables. She hadn't noticed before what an expert he'd become at it. She watched as he effortlessly slid the plates in front of customers, then headed to the counter to get more, stopping along the way to grab a stray empty dish or glass. If she didn't know better, she'd almost think he enjoyed it. He looked capable and in charge. He looked… perfect. She inwardly groaned. There was that stupid word again and, with it, the unwanted rush of memories. She'd come to despise that word. To her, it had always represented the burden of others' expectations, but now things were even more confused because, with one impulsive moment, it had also come to symbolize her wants – two things that clearly did not mesh with one another. She pushed it out of her mind. Unsure where she was going, she headed away from the diner.

***

Rory wandered around the store, glancing at the antiques that surrounded her. Old rocking chairs – polished to look like new. End tables and coffee tables, amazingly devoid of nicks or scratches. An eclectic array of lamps, among them her favorite: an old-fashioned cherry wood base with little, crystalline red beads hanging from the edge of its earth-toned paisley shade. Lorelai had made fun of her when she'd once mentioned it was her favorite, calling it an obscene, psychedelic relic of the 70s home décor scene. But Rory always thought it was quirkily romantic, and she liked how the beads glimmered in the sunlight. She ran her fingers across them, and they chimed out their quiet, familiar song. 

"You break it, you buy it," Mama Kim sternly reminded her, pulling Rory from her thoughts. She jerked her hand away and turned to the older woman.

"Sorry, Mrs. Kim. Is Lane here?"

"She's upstairs," Mrs. Kim answered, moving the lamp out of Rory's reach.

Rory thanked her and hurried upstairs.

"Rory," Lane greeted her as she entered the room. "Just the person I wanted to see. Sit."

Rory smiled and dropped her bag onto the floor, then took a seat across from Lane on the bed. 

Without giving Rory time to say anything, Lane continued. "You need to talk to Jess."

Rory's heart stopped, and she broke out into a cold sweat. How did Lane know? Had Jess said something? "What?" she managed to choke out.

"He came to school today."

Now Rory was just confused. "And?"

"And I was stressing out about that test that I didn't study for as much as I should have," Lane said quickly. "And his presence took me by surprise a little, and I may have overreacted. But that's not the point. The point is that you need to tell him that if he's going to show up at school and take a test, he needs to warn me first. I need to be prepared. I thought I was in the 'Twilight Zone' or something. I was supposed to be thinking about the Cold War, and instead I was waiting for Jess to rip his mask off and reveal that he was a ghoulish creature of the night."

Rory smiled, relieved. "Did he?"

"Did he what?" Lane asked.

"Rip his mask off to reveal that he was a ghoulish creature of the night?"

"No, not yet," Lane admitted. "But any day now."

"So the test didn't go well?"

"No, the test went great. I was all riled up and annoyed, and the facts just came out of my head in a flood. I didn't even know they were in there, but apparently they were."

"Wait, so Jess helped then?" Rory clarified.

Lane hesitated. "Well, I guess, but that wasn't exactly his intention."

"What _was_ his intention?"

"You think I know? To irritate me, probably."

"You think Jess came to school when there was a test, just to annoy you?"

"Is that so unlikely?"

Rory paused, realization dawning. "Did Jess take the test?"

Lane shrugged. "I guess. Either that or he was doing some serious scribbling. I guess your tutoring made a difference. How did that go, by the way?"

Rory looked down at Lane's bedspread and shifted uncomfortably. "It went fine."

"Okay, good. So you'll talk to him then?"

"Why do you think he'll listen to me?" Rory asked.

"Because he likes you."

Rory's eyes shot up to meet Lane's. "What does that mean?"

Lane gave her a strange look. "I don't know. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rory said quickly. "Bad day."

Lane smiled sympathetically. "Sorry."

Rory nodded and turned her attention back to Lane's bedspread. "I'm glad your test went well."

Lane grinned. "Yeah, me too! So, no dinner with your grandparents tonight, right?"

"Right." 

"And your mom is making dinner with Luke."

Rory had completely forgotten. She relaxed a little, knowing she was free of the diner for another night.

"So dinner? You and me?" Lane asked, pulling some take-out menus from under her bed. "Pizza? Pasta? Chinese?"

"Chinese," Rory answered, lying down on Lane's bed.

Lane grabbed the phone. "Perfect."

Hearing the word, Rory grabbed Lane's pillow and dragged it on top of her head. 

***

The doorbell rang, and Lorelai immediately rushed down the stairs. When she reached the door, however, she stopped and grinned mischievously. "Who is it?" she sang.

"It's Luke. Let me in."

"Oh, sorry, Luke," Lorelai said apologetically. "I was only expecting Emeril Lagasse tonight. Ooh, or the Naked Chef. Either will do."

"Let me in, Lorelai."

"No can do. Too many cooks spoil the broth."

"These bags are heavy."

"C'mon," Lorelai dismissed. "You're all strong and manly. I'm sure you can handle it."

"Let me in."

"Would you rather be naked or portly? Take your pick."

"This is ridiculous," Luke mumbled, shifting the grocery bags he held in his arms.

"Come on," Lorelai said, rubbing her hands together expectantly. "Naked or portly? Portly or naked?"

Luke sighed. "Portly."

"Aw, bummer. You're such a spoil sport."

"Can I come in now?"

"Ring the doorbell," Lorelai commanded.

"I already did."

"No, _Luke_ rang the doorbell. You are no longer Luke."

"I'm leaving," Luke stated, turning to walk down the stairs.

"Luke," Lorelai called through the door. "Just ring the doorbell, and I'll let you in."

After a pause, the bell chimed. "Who is it?" Lorelai sang.

"Luke," he said gruffly.

"Huh," Lorelai remarked. "I could've sworn you said Luke. Care to try again?"

"Emeril. It's Emeril," Luke said impatiently, jerking the heavy bags into a better position. "Let me in."

"Oh, okay, Emeril," Lorelai replied as she pulled open the door. "I've been expecting you." She swung it open and let Luke in.

"Do you have to be so annoying?" he asked, a Doose's bag in each arm.

"You love it, and you know it," Lorelai teased. "Here." She reached out and took one of the bags. "Come on in."

Luke walked in and shut the door behind him while Lorelai headed towards the kitchen. He followed behind her. She peered into the bag, sifting through its contents. "Where's the frozen pizza?"

"What?" Luke asked.

"The frozen pizza. And the tater tots. I thought we were cooking."

"We are cooking. That isn't real food."

"And this is?" Lorelai asked, holding up a bag of tomatoes.

"Those are tomatoes."

"They are?" Lorelai said, inspecting them. "I didn't know tomatoes were round."

Luke stopped and looked at her. "You're joking, right?"

"_Yes_, I'm joking," she responded, placing the tomatoes back in the bag.

"Thank God," Luke mumbled. He set his bag on the counter and started pulling things out.

"Thought you had your work cut out for you, huh?"

"I still do."

"Don't worry. There's _always_ frozen pizza."

"Great."

"So, what are we making?" she asked, examining the ingredients. "Looks like a pasta of some sort."

Luke gestured at the food. "I thought we'd start simple."

"Probably a good idea," Lorelai interjected.

"Some spaghetti aglio e olio and some bruschetta."

"Awhatta?"

"Spaghetti with garlic and olive oil and your basic garlic bread," he simplified.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

Luke smiled. "I'm Emeril, remember?"

"Touche."

"Where do you keep your pans?" he asked.

"We have pans?"

Luke sighed. "I didn't bring any."

"Take a look around," Lorelai replied, waving at the cupboards. "Maybe you'll get lucky. Ooh, that reminds me; I almost forgot my surprise," she exclaimed before running out of the kitchen.

Luke shook his head and started going through the cupboards. He found some pans and pulled them out. Moments later, Lorelai appeared with a bag in hand.

"Are you ready?" she asked, reaching into the bag.

Luke looked at her worriedly. "What?"

"Tada!" Lorelai exclaimed, pulling out a white apron and white chef's hat. "If you're gonna be Emeril, you gotta dress the part."

"I'm not wearing those," Luke stated firmly.

"Well then, you should've chosen the Naked Chef earlier. C'mon, it'll be fun." He gave her a look that said pretty much anything but fun. "I have some too," she assured him, holding up her apron and hat. "We'll look stupid together."

"Great. Just what I always wanted." 

Lorelai smiled and flipped the apron over her head. Then, she grabbed the hat and pulled it on. "See? It's not so hard. Put it on," she urged, holding out the apron.

Begrudgingly, Luke put it on and tied it behind his back.

"And the hat?" Lorelai added.

"No way."

"Oh, please. You can do without your baseball cap for one night," she said. She walked forward, plucked the cap from his head, and replaced it with the chef's hat. "You look good," she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. He really did.

"I knew I'd regret this," Luke mumbled before turning back to the pans.

Lorelai reached behind her back and tried tying the apron strings. After two attempts, she still couldn't get it. "Hey, can you help me with these?" she asked, shuffling over to him with her hands still behind her back. She turned around, holding the strings in place.

Luke glanced at her, then stepped forward and took the strings from her hands, grazing her wrists lightly with his fingertips. Sparks shot up Lorelai's arms, and she quickly pulled them forward and folded them over her chest.

Luke pretended not to notice. But as he carefully tied the strings together, the scent of her shampoo drifted up towards him. She smelled great. He finished tying the apron and stepped back. "There you go."

Lorelai swallowed and turned to face him. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"So, where do we start?" she asked, glancing around.

"Uh," he spoke, trying to gather his thoughts. "Water. We need to boil water."

Lorelai grabbed the large pot and walked over to the sink. "How much?"

"A little over half full."

Lorelai turned on the faucet and started filling the pot. Luke watched her for a moment, then turned and grabbed the cutting board to begin slicing the garlic and tomatoes.

Once the pot was full, Lorelai lugged it to the stove and set it on the largest burner. Then, she leaned down and peered at the dials. Luke glanced over at her. "What are you doing?" he asked, seeing the contemplative look on her face.

"I knew I should have paid more attention in chemistry class," she mumbled. "How many degrees does water boil at?"

"What? Why?"

"I need to know how high to set this," she said, pointing at the dial.

"Please tell me that's a joke."

"No, no joke," Lorelai said honestly. "Was it 350? God, I really can't remember."

Luke put down the knife and walked over to the stove. "That dial," he said, pointing at the one she was looking at, "is for the oven. These are for the stove." He pointed to the other dials.

Lorelai nodded. "Wow! I always wondered what those were for. Okay. So does water boil at," she began, peering at the other dials. "Low, medium, high, or the little dots in between?"

"Put it halfway between medium and high." 

Lorelai turned the dial and stepped back. "Done."

Luke shook his head and walked back to the cutting board. "It's gonna be a long night," he muttered.

***

Jess glanced around the diner, then at the clock. They always came in by 6:30. She wasn't coming. That fact shouldn't have surprised him. He knew that Luke was giving Lorelai cooking lessons tonight; of course Rory would want to stick around and watch. But given that she also hadn't come in for dinner on Thursday night or for breakfast or coffee in the past two days, he couldn't help but take it personally. He hadn't seen her at all for two days. He missed her, and it made him mad. 

Ever since he was five, he'd made a habit of never missing people. Once he'd trained himself to stop missing his father, he found he didn't have to miss anyone. Not his mother when she couldn't handle things and wouldn't come home some nights. Not his friends who moved (or drifted) away. Not a single person who had walked in and out of his life – and it had happened often. When he'd come to Stars Hollow, he'd convinced himself that he didn't even miss New York. Not for a second. But now he missed her, and with that, the floodgates opened, and he suddenly missed any and everything he'd ever lost. She'd destroyed years of hard work, and the longer she avoided him, the more he resented her for it.

He needed a cigarette. He glanced at the clock. Two and a half more hours, and his shift was over. Not a second longer.

***

Luke finished chopping the vegetables and walked over to add them to the olive oil that Lorelai had begun heating. 

"Ooh, ooh! Let me do it!" she begged, giving him her most persuasively pathetic look.

He held the board out to her. She grabbed a handful of garlic and chucked it into the pan. "BAM!"

"You are insane," he declared as little bits of oil splashed against the stovetop.

"You should do it. It's liberating. I have a new understanding of Emeril now." She grabbed a few tomatoes and repeated the move. "BAM!"

Luke shook his head.

"C'mon, Luke. Do it!" she urged, gesturing with her shoulder towards the pan. "You know you want to."

"No, I don't."

"You do. I can see it. You have the apron. The hat, which might I add is much more flattering than the baseball cap. Now you just need the catchphrase. Do it."

Luke looked at her without expression.

"C'mon, Luke, do it! All the cool kids are doing it."

He handed her the board and walked over to prepare the bread.

"You are seriously no fun," she stated before dumping the rest of the vegetables into the oil and mixing them around with a spoon.

"So I've been told."

She looked at him. "Do you even have an impulsive bone in your body?"

"Drain the spaghetti."

She walked over to the pot and lifted it from the stove. "Don't you ever want to do something crazy?"

"Teaching you how to cook isn't crazy?"

"Wild and crazy, Luke? Like swim naked or go skydiving or TP Taylor's house?"

"He has motion detectors."

Lorelai's mouth dropped open, and she peered at him as she dumped the water out of the pot. "How do you know that?"

"It's common knowledge."

"I hope you told Jess."

Luke smiled. "He'll find out eventually."

"Wow! You _are_ evil. A totally predictable evil. But evil nonetheless."

"Thanks, I think."

"So, what now?"

"Now, you sit and let me finish."

Lorelai scooted into a chair. "That's cooking I can deal with. God, it smells good."

"You're not so bad at this," he commented.

"Thanks. Even if you are lying."

"I'm not," Luke said sincerely.

Lorelai grabbed a piece of cooked spaghetti and wound it around her finger. "How's Jess doing these days?"

Luke glanced at her. "He's okay. Why?"

Lorelai shrugged. "I don't know. He spends a lot of time with Rory. I just like to make sure he's not wanted for any felonies."

"Not at the moment."

"He really likes her, doesn't he?"

"Rory? Yeah, she's a good kid."

Lorelai nodded. "That, she is." After a pause, she continued. "Say, you haven't noticed anything, have you?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Between Rory and Jess. A vibe or anything."

Luke paused and considered her question. "They seem to get along."

"But not, like, I don't know… maybe…."

"You think?"

Lorelai waved her hand dismissively. "Nah, I'm just talking out loud."

"I never thought about it. That'd be great though, huh?"

"It would?" Lorelai asked nervously.

"Yeah, she'd be good for him. He could use someone like Rory."

Lorelai bit the piece of spaghetti off from her finger. "Right, sure. But, she has Dean."

"Of course," Luke agreed. "I'm just talking out loud."

"She _loves_ Dean."

Luke looked at her. "I know."

Lorelai nodded, and Luke turned back to the bread. "You make that look easy."

He smiled. "It is."

"Well, sure, for Emeril," Lorelai remarked, trying to put Rory and Jess out of her mind and focus on what a good time she was having. "But what about the Naked Chef?"

***

"Good movie," Lane sighed contently as the closing credits rolled.

Rory peered at the tiny television in front of them. "It's even better when it's full-sized."

"Hey, _you_ try to smuggle a 13-inch in here," Lane reprimanded.

"I know, I know. It was just hard to tell one character from another."

"We take what we can get," Lane answered, shutting off the television and carrying it over to the closet.

Rory looked at her watch. "I should go."

"It's only 9:20," Lane observed after checking the time on her alarm clock.

"I know, but I haven't seen my mom all day."

"Chilton really is working you hard, isn't it?"

Rory walked over to slide on her shoes. "Uh, yeah," she lied. "Work, work, work. It's the Chilton motto."

"Well, hopefully you'll get a break soon."

Rory smiled and pulled her bag onto her shoulders. "I'll call you tomorrow." She headed towards the door.

"I look forward to it. Oh, and don't forget to talk to Jess."

Rory's eyes darted to the ground. "Oh, right."

"But don't mention that he actually _helped_ with the test. My anger isn't quite as convincing then."

"Got it."

"Say hi to your mom for me."

Rory smiled. "Night, Lane."

"Night."

***

Rory pulled open the door and stepped out of the Kim's house into the cool, night air. Everything was still, and the sky was perfectly clear. She stared up at it, picking out her favorite constellations as she walked towards home. When she neared the diner, however, she tore her eyes from the stars and looked towards it. She was surprised to find it dark and deserted. The diner usually closed at nine, but more often than not, Jess or Luke was still inside, cleaning up.

She stepped towards the building and peered in through the window. Sure enough, there was no one there. She looked around at the rest of town. There were a few people, but unlike most towns, Stars Hollow was pretty dead on a Friday night. People who wanted a good time went to a bigger city, and those who didn't stayed inside. But, she decided, tonight was too beautiful to stay inside. Veering away from the path home, Rory headed in a different direction.

It wasn't long before she turned onto the dirt path that led to the bridge. She was sure the stars and moon probably looked gorgeous reflected in the lake. She quickened her pace. As the bridge came into sight, she saw someone already perched on its edge, feet dangling over the water. A small wisp of smoke wound up into the air beside him. She saw the cigarette dangling from one hand and a flash of nondescript white in the other. She started to turn away, knowing exactly who it was. But, for reasons she couldn't explain, she changed her mind. She turned back and walked on quiet feet towards where he sat.

***

Lorelai dried the last of the dishes and placed it back into the cupboard. "Dinner was great," she said, turning to Luke.

"Yeah, it turned out okay," he agreed.

"And I didn't even burn anything down."

"I kept a close eye on you."

She placed her hands on her hips, the towel dangling from between her fingers. "We should do this again sometime. You can teach me how to make a dessert. Rory would love that."

"Sounds good."

Lorelai glanced at the time on the microwave. "She'll probably be home any minute."

"It's late," he said, pulling off his apron.

"I know. Time really flew, didn't it?"

"I should get going," he remarked. "Oh, here." Abruptly, he walked towards her and wrapped his hands around and behind her waist, his face not more than a foot from hers.

She jerked a little in surprise but didn't move. His fingers expertly loosened the knot and let the apron strings fall from her waist.

His eyes met hers, holding her gaze. Then, almost imperceptibly, they flickered to her lips and back. She held her breath, and he leaned a little closer. Distracted, she let the towel slip from her grasp, and it landed gracefully across his foot, pulling them both back to reality. He backed away and knelt to pick it up. He took a deep breath before rising and holding it out to her. She smiled at him and took it. "Thanks."

He pulled the hat from his head. "You're welcome."

"Oh, your cap. Here." She hurried over and grabbed it from its place on the fridge. He took it and pulled it on. "Thanks for the lesson."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She grinned. "Have the coffee ready."

"Night, Lorelai."

"Good-night, Luke," she replied as he walked out the door.

***

Her feet echoed against the wooden slats of the bridge, but Jess didn't look up. Instead, he brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed deeply. When Rory reached him, she paused, her eyes falling on the white object he'd held in his hand earlier. Now resting precariously on his leg was the origami rabbit. 

She took a step forward and sat down beside him. He breathed out the smoke. The gray wisps rose up into the air and dissipated.

"Hi," she said softly. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but it's all she could come up with at the moment.

"Hey," he replied. He kept his eyes trained on the expanse of water before them.

As she had expected, the lake was a mirror reflection of the moon and stars above. She spotted the Big Dipper shimmering across the surface. 

"Lane wanted me to tell you that you should warn her before you come to school next time," Rory stated. She meant for it to sound like a joke, but somehow its humor was lost as the words escaped her lips.

"Tell Lane the world doesn't revolve around her," Jess coldly replied, flicking an ash into the water.

Rory watched as the spark dropped through the air and sizzled upon contact with the water's surface. She turned her eyes to Jess. "Are you mad at me?"

Jess met her gaze. "The world doesn't revolve around you either."

His icy tone stabbed her in the chest, and she looked away. "I know that," she weakly replied.

"Do you?" he asked, his eyes still on her.

She didn't answer. She didn't know what to say. He turned back to the water and lifted the cigarette to his mouth again.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, letting the smoke escape prematurely.

"For avoiding you," she said bluntly.

Jess shrugged.

"I just didn't know what to do."

"Do you know now?" he asked.

"No," she said honestly.

He nodded. Neither of them said anything for what seemed like forever. Jess reached the end of his cigarette and dropped the butt into the water.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Rory asked.

"Do what?"

"Origami," Rory replied, fixing her eyes on the rabbit.

Jess looked at it too. "I can only make the rabbit."

"That was lucky," Rory teased. When Jess didn't respond, she asked again, "So where'd you learn how to make it?"

"American Museum of Natural History."

"In New York?"

"Where else?" Jess said, his tone making her feel stupid. 

Rory sighed. "Forget I asked."

Jess hated when she did that – made him feel guilty. He didn't need to tell her anything. 

"They have this tree," he explained. "Around the holidays, every year for almost thirty years. It's huge – like fourteen feet – decorated entirely with origami figures. I saw it on the news when I was eight, so I decided to go see it in person. It took almost an hour and a subway transfer, but I made it."

"When you were eight?" Rory said in disbelief, clearly impressed.

Jess shrugged. "It wasn't that hard."

"So what happened when you got there? Was it what you expected?"

Jess nodded. "It was exactly what I expected. Gigantic, especially considering how short I was back then. I stared at the different animals for hours, just walking around the tree and memorizing them like an idiot. Then, they had this class where they were teaching kids how to make some of them. You had to have a parent with you, but I snuck in. I only made it through the rabbit before they found out and made me leave."

"The rabbit is beautiful."

"It's stupid," Jess disagreed.

"You kissed me," Rory said suddenly, the words just tumbling out.

Jess glanced at her. "You kissed me back."

"I probably shouldn't have," she admitted.

"Probably?"

"Definitely," Rory amended. "I _definitely_ shouldn't have. I love Dean."

He turned away. "So you keep saying."

"I do," she insisted, her eyes fixed downward. "I love Dean."

"As long as you're sure."

"I am."

There was a long silence. By the time Jess spoke, it almost startled Rory. "Do me a favor," he began, his words echoing into the night.

She turned her eyes to meet his. 

"Next time I want to kiss you, slap me or push me away or something. At least that would make some sense."

"At the moment, I doubt you'll ever want to kiss me again," Rory assured him.

Jess smirked knowingly, his eyes drifting to her lips. "I want to kiss you right now."

Rory shifted uncomfortably and let her eyes fall to her lap. "Oh."

When she didn't say anything else, Jess sighed and moved to stand up. "Don't worry," he said with visible irritation. "I'm sure it'll pass." As he rose to his feet, the rabbit slid off his lap and tumbled into the water.

Rory glanced up at him, but he was already walking across the bridge. Her eyes followed him until he was no longer visible. Then, she turned back to the water and watched the saturated rabbit float awkwardly across its surface.


	17. Tag! You're It!

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 17: Tag! You're It!**

**_Disclaimer_**_: The characters and general plotlines belong to The WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino, and ASP's minions. Also, I referenced MIT's Media Lab inventions with the utmost respect and intended no copyright or patent infringement._

**_A/N_**_: This chapter is dedicated to my mom who, upon seeing a special on TechTV, called me and said, "You HAVE to use this for your story!" Thanks, Mom! Thanks also to Ali and Marissa for their help, to the s-h.org gang, and to my little sister. Last but definitely not least, my debt of gratitude to all of you who helped me to reach 400 reviews for this story. It boggles my mind, and I only hope that I can continue to entertain you for 400 more! ~Becka_

She hated when he did this.

It would be one thing to ignore her or be rude to her. That, she could handle. But this constant removed politeness was driving her insane. Mostly because she knew it was calculated. He was a lot of things, but polite wasn't one of them. Her eyes followed him as he moved back to the counter to fill their order.

_She_ was being the big person here. The day after their conversation at the bridge, she'd come to the diner with her mother. She hadn't even put up a fight. She didn't want to ignore him. She just wanted things to be normal again. She'd said hi, like she always did. She'd asked him what he was reading, like she always did. _She'd_ acted normal. And, sure, he'd answered her questions. He'd taken her order. He'd done his job… but nothing more. When she'd come in for breakfast on Sunday, he'd seemed even more indifferent. And now, Monday morning, he might as well have been a stranger on the street.

Why couldn't he just get mad? Be a jerk? At least then she'd know he cared. Then again, maybe he didn't. Maybe he could turn his feelings on and off. Could she blame him?

She found herself watching his face closely whenever she could get a glimpse, hoping for something. A twitch. A tremble. A sign. He gave her nothing.

"…and then we're going to spray-paint ourselves and run buck-naked through the Inn," Lorelai finished, looking at Rory for a response.

Nothing.

"Rory?"

She paused, waiting.

"Rory!"

Rory snapped out of her daze and darted her eyes to her mother. "What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you," Rory stated. "Spray-paint. Buck-naked running." Realizing what she'd just said, she paused, confused. "_That's_ what you're doing today?"

"No, _that_ was a test, which you obviously failed."

Rory frowned. "Sorry."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. I promise I'll listen this time," she said, focusing her full attention on her mother.

"Eh. It's no fun telling a story twice."

"But I want to hear it."

"No, no, it's fine," Lorelai said stubbornly.

Luke paused at their table as he walked by. He looked at Rory. "They're having a conference at the Inn this afternoon to test some crazy new name-tag technology. That's all you missed." 

Rory smiled triumphantly. "Thank you, Luke." He nodded and walked away. "So, name-tag technology? That sounds interesting."

"Apparently, only when Luke says it."

"That's not true."

"Well,_ I_ tell you, and you're an extra in _Awakenings_. Luke tells you, and you snap to attention."

"I just…" Rory began, trying to explain, "…have a lot on my mind."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Lorelai asked, concerned.

Rory fixed her eyes on a salt shaker. "Not really."

"You sure?"

Rory looked up again. "I'd rather hear your story."

"Well, I don't want you to fall asleep," Lorelai joked. "I'll just call Luke over. I hear he tells it better."

Rory smiled. "Your point has been made. Repeatedly."

"Good. So, you really want to hear it?"

"I _really_ want to hear it."

"Okay, well, since you asked so nicely," Lorelai teased. Playing along, Rory rolled her eyes, and Lorelai launched back into her story.

Rory listened intently as her mother talked about the conference, but after a few minutes, the faint sound of Jess's voice distracted her. She glanced over at the counter and saw him take two plates from Luke's hands and round the counter in the direction of their table.

She watched him openly as he drew nearer. He didn't seem to notice. She gave him a small smile. He didn't acknowledge it. 

Lorelai had been in the middle of a sentence when she abruptly realized that Rory was no longer paying attention, again. She looked up and immediately saw why. She frowned.

Jess set the plates in front of them. "Anything else?" he asked blankly, looking at nothing in particular.

Rory dropped her eyes to the table. Lorelai glanced at her daughter, then back at Jess. "We're fine," she said harshly.

Without another word, Jess walked back to the counter.

Lorelai turned her eyes to her daughter, who was now using her fork to push her food around her plate. She waited for Rory to tell her to continue her story, but she never did.

They ate in silence.

***

"Rory and I are drifting apart," Lorelai said sadly as she helped Sookie lift the bucket into place.

"What?" Sookie exclaimed.

"We are. We're drifting apart."

"That's crazy."

"She's keeping things from me."

"All teenagers do that."

Lorelai shook her head. "Not Rory."

Sookie gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "It was bound to happen."

"She doesn't need to keep secrets. She can tell me anything."

"And she knows that," Sookie assured her. "But eventually, everybody wants a secret."

"Not Rory."

"_Even_ Rory," Sookie disagreed. "Don't you remember the first time you kept something from your mother?"

"Uh, yeah, I think it was about two seconds after birth."

Sookie giggled. "Okay, not the best example. How about the first time you kept something from your best friend?"

Lorelai smiled. "Christopher. Right after I met Christopher."

Sookie nodded. "Mine was Terrence Lester."

"His name was Terrence Lester?" Lorelai teased.

"Don't," Sookie exclaimed, lightly hitting Lorelai's arm. "He was beautiful."

"He'd have to be with a name like that."

"You're awful," Sookie chided. "I'm just saying that Christopher and Terrence were _our_ secrets. Sometimes feelings are so special and beautiful and strange that we just aren't ready to share them yet. We need time alone with them first."

"This thing with Rory is different."

"Maybe it is. Be patient; she'll tell you eventually."

Lorelai sighed. "How can you know that?"

"Because I know you, and I know Rory."

"I don't want to lose her, Sookie."

Sookie reached out and squeezed her hand. "You won't," she promised. "Stop worrying!"

Lorelai forced a smile and looked around the room. "Is it just me, or is this the most bizarre conference ever?" she asked, eyeing the buckets spread around the perimeter.

Sookie shook her head. "It's not just you. Ooh, hey, speaking of bizarre, how did the cooking lesson go?" she asked, looking at Lorelai expectantly.

"It was good. I didn't burn anything down."

"And Luke?"

"I didn't burn him down either."

"You know that's not what I meant," Sookie said, grinning. "Was he a good cook? A good teacher? Spill!"

Lorelai hesitated. "I don't know; Luke was… Luke."

"Oh, shoot!" Sookie exclaimed, noticing the clock.

"What?"

"It's been ten minutes. I have to run and check on lunch. But be prepared to tell me what you two cooked when I get back," she warned before darting towards the kitchen.

Lorelai smiled after her, then wandered around the room, double-checking that everything was in place. After a few moments, she paused, thinking back on the cooking lessons with Luke. She was replaying the night in her head when a sudden, uncomfortable realization hit her, followed by a wave of panic. As much as she wanted to deny it, Rory wasn't the only one keeping secrets. 

***

School was boring. New York, Stars Hollow; it didn't matter which city or even which state you were in. It was still boring. Jess wasn't even sure why he was there. After Rory and Lorelai left, he just sort of wandered out of the diner, and eventually he ended up in the school.

After getting the evil eye from Lane, he slumped into his seat and tried not to listen to a word the teacher was saying. For the most part, he succeeded. At one point, however, the teacher insisted on calling on him. Hearing his name, he looked up and immediately noticed the weird, hopeful look in her eyes. He hadn't seen a teacher look at him like that since the fourth grade. It freaked him out. So he did the only thing he could think of: he gave a very wrong, very smartass answer. Disappointed, she sighed and called on someone else. He pulled a book out of his back pocket and began reading.

He didn't look up again until he sensed movement and realized that the teacher was walking up and down the rows of desks, returning last week's test.  He knew that meant class was almost over, so he leaned forward and shoved the book back into his pocket. By the time he settled back again, the teacher was heading down his aisle. Eventually, she reached Lane's desk, then she continued forward and placed his test in front of him, upside down. He didn't touch it. Lane, however, frantically flipped hers over and scanned the page. With a squeal, she whirled around in her seat to face Jess. "I _worship_ you!" she exclaimed. Then, realizing what she'd just said, she froze. After a beat, she glanced around and, as feared, saw all of the other students staring at her. "I got an A-," she explained quickly before turning forward and gathering up her things. The other students stared at her for another second then went back to what they were doing. As soon as the bell rang, Lane grabbed her bag and headed for the door, mumbling "I've gotta stop doing that" on the way out.

Amused, Jess shook his head and looked back down at his test. Hesitantly, he flipped it over and scanned the first page. Without expression, he folded it in half, shoved it in his pocket, and stood to go. As he passed the teacher's desk, however, she called his name. He paused.

"I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

He glanced at her and saw that look again. Averting his eyes, he walked out the door.

***

A middle-aged man walked to the front of the room and stepped behind the podium. "Hello everyone, and welcome to the first ever 'Tag! You're It!' Conference, or as I like to call it 'our little lab experiment'."

The crowd laughed.

"As you know, this conference is our attempt to mix the worlds of dating and innovative technology in new and hopefully beneficial ways. Before we get started, let's take a moment to thank the Independence Inn for the use of their beautiful property and for all of their hard work to make this conference a success."

The crowd looked in the direction of Lorelai, Sookie, and Michel and applauded enthusiastically.

After it died down, the man continued. "Now, let's begin. My name is Stephen Anderson, and I'm a member of the MIT Media Lab team. We're the ones responsible for the strange nametags you were all given on the way in." He reached into the podium shelf and pulled out a nametag, holding it up for the crowd to see. "We call these odd, little things 'Thinking Tags.'  This sort of tag is a kind of thin-layer social technology, which is intended to provide just enough information to facilitate or improve the interaction between two people. In other words, it acts as a kind of bridge between people, allowing them to see almost immediately how much they might or might not have in common with one another. The tags are a work-in-progress, which is why we're eager to see how they behave in a dating environment. Up until now, we tested them only in academic settings where the stakes were relatively low. But hopefully, today, we'll help some of you make love connections."

The crowd buzzed with approval.

"Okay, enough history, let me explain how these work, so you can all get started. As I said, each of you should have already received a nametag and an elastic bungee cord to secure it around your neck.  Right now, these nametags only display your names. You are responsible for activating the other necessary information. If you look around the room, you'll notice that five kiosks have been set up. Each kiosk corresponds to a question that was designed with you in mind. 

"When you get to the kiosk, you'll find the question on a large poster-board, along with three potential answers," he explained, gesturing to the sample kiosk that had been set up next to the podium. "Each answer has a corresponding, color-coded bucket. You simply decide on the answer that most suits you and dip your nametag into the bucket. A device at the bottom of the bucket will program your answer into your tag. You should hear a small beep when your tag is successfully programmed," he concluded, dipping his own tag into the bucket. There was a small beep. "You can then move on to another kiosk until all five of your answers have been entered into your tag. 

"As you can see, each tag has five little lights aligned horizontally along the top. These lights display your compatibility. When you encounter another person, your tags will communicate with one another and then flash a pattern of lights. For example, if two of the lights flash, you have two answers in common. You won't know which answers, however; the responsibility lies on you to find out. That's it; it's very simple. All we expect is that you activate your answers, mingle, and enjoy the afternoon. There will be a buffet lunch around noon and an activity later in the day to demonstrate one of the other benefits of this technology. For now, however, you're free to get to know each other. Any questions?"

Everyone was eager to get started; no one raised a hand.

Stephen smiled. "Off you go!"

The singles quickly dispersed towards the kiosks, and Lorelai turned to Sookie and Michel. "They actually think this is gonna work?"

"Oh, I think it's a great idea," Sookie cooed.

Michel rolled his eyes. "It is silly. I am going back to my desk."

"Though it pains me to say it, I agree with Michel," Lorelai stated after he was gone.

"C'mon, honey. It seems like a fun way to get conversation started."

"Unless none of the lights flash."

Sookie hesitated. "Well, there is that."

"Ms. Saint James, Ms. Gilmore," Stephen greeted as he approached them. "Everything looks wonderful."

Lorelai smiled. "That's what we like to hear."

He returned the smile. "However, your work here isn't done."

"Oh," Sookie chimed in. "Lunch is under control. You have nothing to worry about."

Stephen nodded. "Of that, I'm sure, which is why these are for you," he stated, holding out two nametags.

Both women looked puzzled.

"We were hoping you two would participate," he explained. "We'd love the extra feedback."

"Oh, it's okay," Lorelai demurred, shaking her head. "We need to focus on keeping things running smoothly."

Stephen looked around the room. "I don't foresee any problems."

"Even so…" Lorelai began.

He glanced at their hands. "I don't see any rings."

Lorelai looked down at her hand and scrunched her brow in frustration.

"Are you sure you don't wanna give it a try?" he pressed.

"I don't really think it's appropri—"

"Aw, go ahead!" Sookie interrupted. "Give it a go!"

Lorelai glared at her.

Stephen grinned and waved the tags in the air. "I just happen to have these two extra nametags, _literally_ with your names on them."

"I bet you've been waiting years to say that," Lorelai joked nervously.

He held out the nametags. Sookie took hers and motioned in the direction of the kiosks. "C'mon."

Lorelai sighed and reached for her tag. Mission accomplished, Stephen nodded and headed out to the crowd. With a weak, forced smile, Lorelai trudged behind Sookie towards the kiosks.

***

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Lorelai complained as they stopped in front of the first kiosk.

Sookie glanced at her. "I'm surprised at you. You're usually the first person to snatch up an opportunity."

Lorelai frowned and lifted her nametag. "We're putting our love lives in the hands of computer nerds."

"Sshhh," Sookie reprimanded. "They're everywhere."

"Exactly! It's like Kirk has become our Dr. Ruth."

"You're being silly."

"Says the woman with the Jackson."

Sookie grinned.

"You're cheating, you know."

"Oh, hush," Sookie dismissed. "I'm doing it for the client."

Lorelai raised an eyebrow.

Sookie pointed at the question. "We're holding up the line."

"Fine," Lorelai moped. She glanced at the question and read it aloud. "When looking for a potential mate, the most important quality is…. Wow! Doesn't get more generic than that!"

"Would you stop? Choose an answer. A) Intelligence. B) Sense of humor. C) Looks." Sookie immediately dipped her tag into "sense of humor."

Lorelai, meanwhile, shuffled around her and dunked her tag into a different bucket.

Sookie glanced at her choice. "What are you doing? That isn't important to you!" 

"It is now," Lorelai replied, grinning mischievously.

"Lorelai!"

"Hey, would you sleep with someone who looked like Andy Rooney?"

"Well, no," Sookie admitted.

"All right then. Next question."

Lorelai hurried to the next kiosk.

"Oh, _now_ she's excited," Sookie mumbled, trailing after her.

***

"When you were a child, you were most likely to…" Sookie read after they stopped at the third kiosk.

Lorelai read over the answers then turned to Sookie. "Do you see 'get pregnant'? 'Cuz I don't think it's up there."

Sookie bumped her with her shoulder. "You're impossible."

"Hey, for some of us that was a crucial childhood experience."

Sookie giggled. "That answer wouldn't really work for half of the people here."

"Okay, fine. How about 'when you were a child, you were most likely to get pregnant or impregnate'?"

"Pick a different answer."

Lorelai looked at her nametag. "How come there's no write-in vote?"

Shaking her head, Sookie took the tag from Lorelai's hand and dipped it into the 'steal a candy bar' bucket.

"Hey," Lorelai protested.

Sookie handed the tag back. "You know it's true."

"Yes, but I had been lying up 'til now. I can't believe you did that."

"You'll get over it," Sookie teased, dunking her own tag into 'put on plays for your friends and family'.

They walked to the next kiosk.

"Ooh, I like this question," Sookie applauded.

Lorelai read it over. "If you could invent a technology, it would be: A) An earpiece that transmits a chosen person's thoughts to you; B) An oven that magically produces whatever food you desire; C) A machine that allows you to relive the memory of your choice. Definitely B," Lorelai stated, programming her tag.

"No more lessons? Luke will be crushed."

Lorelai shifted uncomfortably, but Sookie didn't notice. "Well, definitely not B. I like C, but with Jackson around, I _need_ A." She dipped her tag.

"Really?" Lorelai asked.

"I know he's always saying one thing when he means another."

Lorelai's eyes twinkled. "No when he really means yes," she teased.

Sookie blushed. "No."

"Does that mean yes?"

"No."

"So, yes."

"Stop," Sookie ordered half-heartedly.

"Which means continue?"

"This could go on all day."

"No," Lorelai nodded.

"Now you're just confusing me."

Lorelai smiled proudly, and they walked to the last kiosk. After reading the answers, they both laughed. Without a thought, Lorelai dipped her tag into a bucket.

Sookie blushed. "I can't believe you."

With an evil grin, Lorelai hurried off in search of victims.

***

After about forty-five minutes of wandering from person to person, Lorelai decided that her initial impression had been right all along. This game was hopeless. There was a reason these men were single. She began to be grateful when none of the lights flashed because it meant the guy would make two-second small talk before scurrying off towards a more promising woman. She glanced around for Sookie but couldn't spot her in the crowd, so she flopped into a nearby armchair. With nothing better to do and only fifteen minutes until lunch, she lifted her tag and examined its intricate wiring.

"Is this seat taken?" a male voice asked, drawing her attention. 

'Great, another one,' Lorelai mumbled to herself as she looked up. Well, at least this guy was easy on the eyes: dark, wavy hair; chiseled features; an easy smile; _gorgeous_ eyes. She peered at his nametag. "August McCullough. That's quite a name."

He chuckled. "Gus is fine."

"Okay, Gus, it is," she agreed, gesturing towards the empty chair. 

He sat down and looked at her nametag. "Ah, Lorelai Gilmore. Siren of the Rhine?"

She smirked. "Lorelai is fine."

"Lorelai, it is," he agreed, extending his hand towards her. She shook it. "Didn't we applaud you earlier?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

She shrugged. "It's weird, but I enter a room, and the people just start clapping."

He laughed. "Do they? That must be unnerving."

"You get used to it after a while."

"So do you own The Independence Inn?"

"If by 'own', you mean 'manage.' Then, yes, I own the Inn."

"Well, it's a great place," he said warmly. "That must be a big job."

She smiled and started to say something but was interrupted by the beeping of their tags. She glanced at his. "Well, look at that," she commented.

He glanced down at his tag.

"One lonely little light," she said, shaking her head forlornly. "Guess we don't have a lot in common."

"I could always change my answers," he offered.

Surprised, she met his eyes. There was a mischievous glint in them but also a little hint of seriousness.  "Not necessary," she remarked.

He leaned his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin on his palm, searching her face for clues. "I wonder what we have in common," he contemplated.

"Aside from names that can only come from evil parents?"

He smiled. "Aside from that."

"Only one way to find out," she stated, glancing at the kiosks. "Care to answer a few questions?"

He looked at the boards as well then turned back to her. "Hit me."

"Okay, let's see, first question: Intelligence, sense of humor, or looks?"

"Sense of humor," he said simply.

"Why sense of humor?"

He shrugged. "From my experience, a true sense of humor requires intelligence. Plus, laughter is sexy. Pick sense of humor and you get all three."

"Oh, so you're just greedy."

"And proud of it. What did you pick?"

Lorelai smiled. "Looks, naturally."

"Really?" he drawled.

"I was trying to irritate my friend," she admitted.

"How would that irritate your friend?"

"I wasn't taking it seriously."

"Ah," he said, understanding. "So what would you have picked, if you were being truthful?"

She glanced at the choices, then back at him. "Sense of humor. I'm greedy too."

"See, this is good. Now we have two answers in common. Definitely progress. What's next?"

Lorelai looked at the next kiosk. "Your ideal date is: A) Charlie Chaplin marathon at an old-fashioned theater, B) Horseback riding along the beach, C) Latin dancing at a hot new club."

"You first," he prodded.

"C, but again, not entirely true."

"What's the truth?"

"Definitely A."

He nodded in agreement. "The Little Tramp."

"Hey! No need for name-calling," Lorelai chided.

"Oh, I just meant—," he began to explain. Then he saw Lorelai's grin. "Okay, so we both enjoy the master of the silent film. That makes three lights."

"And brings us to the next question." 

"When you were a child," Gus read. "You were most likely to: A) Steal a candy bar, B) Read War and Peace, or C) Put on plays for your friends and family."

"Wild child," Lorelai answered. "If there was a rule, I had to break it."

"Bookworm," Gus responded.

"In that case, you'd have a lot in common with my daughter."

"Your daughter?"

"Rory. She's 17. Unfortunately, 'get pregnant' wasn't one of the answers."

Gus laughed. "Should've done a write-in."

"I tried, but apparently, the technology on these things is hack-proof."

He frowned. "It seems we're stuck at three. Shall we try for four?"

"I don't know," Lorelai hedged. "If it's not gonna be a perfect score, we might as well give up."

He smirked at her double entendre. "I disagree. Four out of five is still admirable. We shouldn't quit now."

"No?"

"Eighty-percent compatibility is very impressive."

"Okay, fine, you convinced me. Let's give it a shot," she agreed, turning to the fourth question. "If you could invent a technology, it would be: A) An earpiece that transmits a chosen person's thoughts to you, B) An oven that magically produces whatever food you desire, or C) A machine that allows you to relive a memory of your choice."

"I guess A. You seem like the curious type."

"Ehn! Sorry! More like the clueless in the kitchen type."

"Not domestic?"

"Definitely not. Any chance you aren't either?"

He shook his head regretfully. "I own a restaurant."

"Well, there goes our chance at redeeming ourselves. What'd you pick?"

"C."

"Yeah?" she asked, intrigued. "Which memory would you want to relive?"

"Well, originally I would've picked something from my childhood. You know, back when life was carefree and innocent."

Lorelai smiled. "And now?"

"The past fifteen minutes would be nice."

Lorelai's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Very smooth."

"Too smooth?" he asked.

"Just a little bit," she stated, holding her fingers up to demonstrate. "But nice try."

He smiled. "Okay, well, last question."

Lorelai nodded. "The parent of our lone blinking light."

"All right, complete this sentence. Love is…"

"All we need," Lorelai read, looking at him curiously.

He shook his head.

"Yeah, me neither."

"A four-letter word?" he asked.

"I'm not that cynical yet."

"Something else we have in common," he pointed out. "Okay, moment of truth. Drum roll please."

Lorelai drummed her fingers against the armrest.

"According to us," he began, his eyes on her. "Love is…." He turned to read the board. "The triumphant twang of a bedspring."

Lorelai stopped drumming. "Well," she said, blushing slightly.

He laughed. "That's interesting."

"It was more of a—"

"Joke answer," he finished for her. They both fell silent.

"At least that wasn't all we had in common," he pointed out.

Lorelai nodded. "True… unless you go by the lights."

"An experimental technology; I wouldn't trust it."

"Probably a good idea."

They both paused, searching for something to say. Simultaneously, they opened their mouths to speak.

"Lunch is ready!" Sookie called from across the room, cutting them off. "The buffet is organized into seven sections…"

"Oh, thank God, I'm starving," Lorelai commented, rising from her chair.

They both stood up and turned to each other. Gus held out his hand. "It was nice meeting you, Lorelai Gilmore."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Three out of five isn't bad."

He nodded. "Not at all." After another moment's hesitation, he lifted her hand in his and placed a small kiss on its back. "It was a pleasure."

Lorelai smiled. "Enjoy the rest of the conference," she said, turning to go.

She got about two steps before he called out her name.

She turned back. "Yeah?"

"Are you allowed to eat?"

She grinned. "I don't know. Let me ask the manager." Then, after a brief pause, "She seems okay with it."

"In that case, care to join me?"

Even though she'd suspected he was going to ask, when the time came, something made her hesitate. She searched her mind, trying to come up with an excuse. After a moment, however, she realized she had no reason to say no. She met his eyes. "I'd like that."

He smiled and gestured towards the dining room. "After you." 

***

The bus pulled up to its Stars Hollow stop. Rory grabbed her bag from the seat beside her and, shoving in the book she'd been reading, zipped it shut. Then, she rose quickly and hurried to the front of the bus. As soon as she started down the steps, she saw him.

"Hey," he greeted, holding out a take-out cup of coffee.

Reaching the last step, she smiled and walked towards him. "You're back."

"I'm back," Dean affirmed, leaning down to give her a kiss.

After the briefest of moments, she pulled away. She immediately saw disappointment flash across his face, and a knot of guilt formed in the pit of her stomach. Leaning towards him, she placed another quick kiss on his lips. "Welcome back," she said softly.

He grinned and held the cup towards her again. "Coffee?"

"Of course," she said, taking it and immediately raising it to her lips. It burned a familiar path down her throat. She instantly noted that Jess must've made it; his coffee was always a little stronger than Luke's.

"Did you miss me?" Dean asked, drawing her attention.

She shook Jess from her mind. "Of course I did. How was Chicago?"

"Good. _Really_ good."

"Glad to hear it," she stated. They turned and began walking down the street.

"So, what did you do while I was gone?" he asked.

The sip of coffee Rory had just taken felt thick in her mouth, and for a second, she thought she might drown. Swallowing hard, she forced the liquid down her throat. When it hit her stomach, it melded with the knot, doubling its size. "Um," she answered, her voice sounding strange, "nothing really."

"No?"

"Well," she answered hesitantly, searching for a response. "Oh! You missed Movie in the Square Night."

"That's right. What was the movie?"

"_The Yearling_."

"Suddenly, I'm not really that disappointed."

"Hey, it was very good," Rory defended.

He smiled down at her. "I'm sure it was."

"It was."

"Okay then. Did I miss anything else?"

"Nothing important," she said quickly, shaking her head.

Abruptly, Dean stopped. Confused, Rory looked at him. He grinned and placed his arms around her waist, shifting down a little so he could see her better. "I really missed you," he said sincerely. "You look even better than when I left."

The knot of guilt shot shockwaves through her body. Face flushed, she looked away. 

Dean mistook her reaction. "Are you blushing?" he teased.

When she didn't respond, he reached out and lifted her chin until her eyes met his. "You always look beautiful," he whispered. Before she could say anything else, he drew her into another kiss.

When he pulled away, Rory forced a smile. Satisfied with her reaction, Dean moved to the side and took her hand in his. It was then that Rory realized they were standing in front of Luke's. Through the window, her eyes met Jess's, but only for a second. Without so much as a flinch, he turned back to the table in front of him and took the customer's order.

The knot of guilt unwound itself, and all Rory felt was pain.

***

The phone was ringing. Jess ignored it. About twenty minutes ago, he'd announced that he was taking a break; before Luke could disagree, he'd disappeared up the stairs. Book in hand, he was now reclining on his bed. Surprisingly, he found he was able to concentrate, or at least until the damn phone started ringing. He glared at it and turned back to his book. Around the fourth or fifth ring, it stopped, but by then, he'd already succeeded at blocking it out.

He had just turned the page when he heard footsteps thumping up the stairs. A second later, the door flew open. Jess kept reading.

Luke folded his arms over his chest and stared at him. Jess kept reading.

"One chance," Luke said, waving a finger in the air. "That's all you're getting."

Jess turned the page.

"Jess?"

He kept reading.

"Jess."

He moved his eyes to the adjacent page.

"Jess!"

His head shot up. "What?"

"I'm giving you _one_ chance."

"Great," Jess said sarcastically. "Thanks."

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Yeah. Flannel's out."

"Jess," Luke warned.

"Don't worry. I hear baseball caps are making a comeback."

"Did you hear the phone ringing?"

Jess glanced around the room. "Was that what that noise was?"

"I had to run across the diner to get it."

"No wonder you're winded," Jess said sympathetically. "Deep breath."

Luke ignored him. "Guess who it was."

"Ed McMahon?" Jess ventured.

"The high school."

"Huh."

"I have to go meet with the principal _again_."

Jess smirked. "I think he's developing a little crush on you," he teased.

"_And_ your History teacher."

"Gee, Uncle Luke. You get around."

"This is serious, Jess."

"In that case, use protection, big guy. You'll be fine," Jess assured him before turning back to his book.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, flabbergasted.

Jess glanced back up, his face serious. "Condoms, sponges, The Pill. Hey, did you know they just came out with a—"

"What did you do, Jess?" Luke asked, his patience hanging on by a very thin thread.

"C'mon, Uncle Luke, you didn't _really_ think I was still a v—"

"Last. Chance."

"Really? 'Cuz I thought I was only getting _one_ chance."

Exasperated, Luke just stared at him. Then, after a moment, he said calmly, "This is your warning, Jess. I hate that place," he stated, gesturing in the general direction of the school. Then, he pointed at Jess. "It's your fault I have to go there. If I get there, and you did something – ANYTHING – illegal, even mildly illegal. No, you know what, even just _morally_ wrong, and you didn't tell me about it first, right now, when you had the chance, then you're _out_." He waved his hand in the air. "That's it."

Jess turned back to his book.

"You have nothing to say?"

"Try not to have too much fun," Jess said flatly.

Luke looked at him and sighed. "Watch the diner!" he ordered on his way out the door.

Once he was gone, Jess closed his book and glanced at the empty doorway. A small twinge of panic started to rise up, but he quickly shoved it down. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and went downstairs.

***

After saying goodbye to Dean, Rory walked into the house and shut the door. She leaned against it and took a deep breath. Once she knew he was gone, she walked into the living room and glanced out the window. Not a soul in sight. And, now that she thought about it, not a soul upstairs either. She glanced around the room and saw that the answering machine was flashing. Dropping her bag onto the floor, she walked over and pressed the button.

"Hey, babe! It's me. I got held up at the Inn. I don't think I'll make it for dinner, but I'll be there as soon as I can. Eat something. Love you."

The message ended, and Rory reached out to delete it. Then, she walked into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. As expected, it contained nothing edible. She shut it again. 

Entering the living room, she went to her bag and unzipped the front pocket. She rifled through it for loose cash. Five dollars. Not enough to get pizza, or anything deliverable, for that matter. But, she reluctantly admitted, it would cover a cheeseburger and some fries. She hesitated. Not amused, her stomach growled at her.

With a deep sigh, she headed back outside.

***

As soon as she entered the diner, her eyes surveyed the room and narrowed in on him. He was talking to Caesar. She looked around for a seat. Thanks to the early dinner rush, all of the tables were full. She had two choices: either ask Kirk if she could join him or sit at the counter. Or she could leave, she reminded herself. Her stomach growled again, and she headed towards the counter.

Sliding onto a stool, she immediately pulled a laminated menu in front of her and started scanning its contents.

Jess finished talking to Caesar and glanced around for new customers. His eyes fell on her. She was hunched over a menu. He couldn't help but chuckle at her sad attempt to avoid conversation. He grabbed the pencil and pad from his pocket and walked towards her. He stopped in front of her but didn't say anything. After a moment, she peered up at him.

"Are you ready to order?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Um, yeah," she nodded, stumbling over her words. She looked back at the menu for reassurance. "Just a cheeseburger."

"Fries?" he asked politely.

She glanced up again, searching his face. "Yeah, fries would be good."

"That all?" he asked, emotionless.

"Can I get a Coke too?"

He nodded. "Sure."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said evenly before heading over to hand off her order.

She wanted to throttle him. She placed the menu back on the rack but attuned her ears to the conversation he was having with Caesar. She couldn't hear anything.

Seconds later, he passed by behind the counter and walked into the storage room. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the diner. When she was sure no one was watching, she slipped off the stool and followed after him.

He was crouched in front of a shelf, sifting through some tin cans. Soups or olives or something. She wasn't sure. She walked in and leaned against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

She'd been hoping to startle him, but he just continued looking through the cans. "It's my job."

"No, I don't mean that," she clarified, gesturing at what he was doing. "I just meant – well, I meant—"

Finding the can, he stood up and turned to her. "You meant what?"

"This," she said, motioning towards him. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Polite," she blurted out. "You're never polite."

"Gee, thanks."

Her shoulders collapsed. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant...." She cut herself off.

"Do you even know what you mean?" he asked, curious.

"Yes," Rory said, trying to sound confident.

"Fine, then say it."

"You're being immature," she accused.

"Because I'm polite to you?" Jess asked.

"Yes."

He shook his head. "Do you _realize_ what you're saying?"

"Yes," she said again.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" he asked sarcastically. "Stick out my tongue and call you names?"

"No," Rory lamely replied.

"Then what? You're gonna have to define maturity for me because I think we read different dictionaries," Jess said, frustrated.

"I don't know," Rory answered, suddenly fighting back tears.

"Maybe you should figure it out."

"I'm trying."

He moved towards the door. "Try harder."

"I just want you to be normal," she said loudly, stopping him. He turned to look at her. "I just want everything to go back to normal."

"And what is that?" he asked angrily.

Rory sighed. "I don't know."

"Again, you're gonna have to give me more to go on. What do you want me to do?"

She wiped a tear away. "I don't know."

"Fine, let me help," he offered, gesturing at her. "How about the normal where everything is perfect? You're with Dean, the control freak, and you're everyone's princess. Perfect Rory with her perfect, chauvinist prince! And, of course, nothing _ever_ goes wrong in this _stupid_, _perfect_ town, and what's even better? I don't even exist. Gosh, it's like a fairytale."

Another tear rolled down her cheek; she shook her head. "I don't want that."

"Oh, okay," Jess said, gaining momentum. "So I _do_ exist, but I'm stuck behind a stupid window while you make out with _Dean_ in front of my face? Is that your idea of normal?"

Rory stared at the ground and said softly, "No."

"Great, at least now we're getting somewhere. How about the normal where you flip-flop back and forth between the two of us? You like him? No, wait, you like me? Oh, darn, his turn again."

"Stop it," Rory pleaded.

"Or we could just have the normal where I kiss you and you run away?" He took a step towards her. "Wanna give that normal another try?"

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she looked up at him. "Jess."

"What, Rory? What is normal? I'd really like to know."

Frustrated, she brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. "I don't know. I just want us to be friends again," she said, her voice breaking.

They both fell silent. The only sound was Rory's sniffles as she tried to regain her composure.

After a few seconds, Jess let himself look at her. She was staring at the ground. He watched as she ran her fingers across her cheeks, trying to erase the tears that just kept coming, and all he really wanted to do was pull her close. That's all he ever wanted to do. But then his eyes drifted down her arm and fell on the bracelet tied around her wrist, and the anger came back. When he spoke, his tone was even and harsh. "The thing is, Rory," he said calmly, "we can't go back to something that never existed."

He walked out before she could react. He had to.

A minute later, she hurried through the diner and out the door.

***

The sound of knocking woke her. She glanced around the dark room and tried to remember where she was. She swallowed, and her throat felt sore. She rubbed her eyes; they felt puffy. In a rush, her fight with Jess came back to her, and she curled her long limbs into a protective ball. 

Another knock. 

Irritated, she threw the blankets off and stumbled into the living room. 

As soon as she opened the door, two big arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a crushing hug. She blinked. "Luke?"

He pulled away. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked, very confused.

"He got a B!" Luke exclaimed, looking at her with amazement.

Her groggy mind tried to process the information. "What?"

"Jess! He got a B on his History test."

Rory couldn't help it; she smiled. "He did? Really?"

"And he didn't even cheat," Luke said proudly.

"Why would you thin—"

"I didn't," Luke interrupted. "The teacher thought maybe… but only Jess could write smartass answers like that."

Luke's grin was contagious. "So how'd you do it?" he asked again.

"I didn't. Jess is really smart."

Luke nodded. "I know, but how'd you get him to take the test?"

Rory was at a loss. "I guess I… maybe… I don't really know," she said honestly.

"Do you think you can do it again?"

Rory froze. "What?"

"Help him."

"I don't thin—"

"Free coffee," he offered. "For you." He hesitated before adding reluctantly, "And your mom."

"I'm sorry, Luke. I just don't think that's a goo—"

Luke's smile faded slightly.

Rory sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

Luke hugged her again. This time, when he pulled away, he noticed her red eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Rory assured him.

"Where's your mom?" he asked, looking past her into the house.

"Oh, she's at the Inn. She'll be home soon."

"I can stay," Luke awkwardly offered. "If you nee—"

"I'm fine."

Luke nodded. "So, Jess? How about Thursday?"

"Uh, yeah, Thursday is fine."

"Great!" Luke shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe he got a B."

Rory smiled.

"I'll see you in the diner tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah," she agreed. "We'll be there."

"Okay. I'll have your coffee waiting."

Rory nodded. "Okay."

Luke shook his head in disbelief one more time and headed back down the walk.

Rory watched him go, then shut the door. She leaned her back against it for the second time that day and softly banged her head on the wood. With a deep sigh, she trudged back into her room, collapsed on the bed, pulled the comforter over her head, and tried not to think about what she'd just done.


	18. The Bear, the Barbie, and the Chemistry ...

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 18: The Bear, the Barbie, and the Chemistry Set**

**_Disclaimer:_**_ We've all grown bored with the disclaimer. We know what it says; we know what it means; let's move on, shall we?_

**_A/N_**_: Sarah (The Sister). Marissa (The Compass When I Veer Off-Course). Dani (The LitVid Goddess). Sidney (She Who is Much-Missed). Mai (She Whose Art is the Epitome of Beauty). Elise (The Writer I Aspire to Be). Kat (The Comeback Kid). Ali (She Whose Greatness Cannot Be Captured With Words). Mandy (Reviewer Extraordinaire). This chapter is dedicated to each of you with appreciation, admiration, and awe. ~Becka_

Taylor Doose stood at the podium in front of the room, puffed up and proud as he turned his eyes back to the town meeting gatherers.

"All right, people, you've now heard both sides of the issue. It's time for the vote. Now _please_, take a moment and weigh the options carefully. We don't want any rash decisi—."

Before he could finish, the group broke out into yells and hollers. Half of the people were shouting "Number 1", single fingers held up to emphasize their votes. The other half wagged two fingers in the air and chanted "Number 2."

Rory looked around the room with wide eyes. It was like she was stuck in some sort of surreal Stars Hollow version of "The Dating Game" or "Love Connection." She turned back to the platform, a sick feeling rising in her stomach.

"Now, people! People!" Taylor reprimanded, moving his hands up and down in calming motions. "Chaos is not the answer. We will do this in an orderly, organized fashion."

"Where's the ballot box?" a voice shouted.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Bootsie?" Taylor replied. "Well, I'm sorry. I will not have you stuffing my ballot box again!"

"Ooh, dirty!" Lorelai called out, nudging Rory with her elbow. Rory gave her a small smile.

Lorelai looked at her with concern and reached out to feel her forehead. "You look green, hon. Are you feeling okay?"

Rory swallowed thickly and stared forward. "I'm fine," she whispered, her voice feeling small.

"This time, I have safeguarded against vote tampering," Taylor stated, looking proudly at the crowd. "We will have an open vote. Each town-member must state his or her opinion loudly and clearly. I will keep a tally. There will be no hiding your opinions, people. Everything's out in the open. So choose wisely." He glanced knowingly at the two men beside him, his eyes narrowing at one of them in particular, then he turned back to the crowd. "We'll start in the back left corner. Ms. Shea, speak your mind!"

The middle-aged woman stated her choice, and Taylor proceeded around the room. After a few minutes, he reached Babette's row.

"Babette, it's your turn."

Nodding, she frowned and looked at the choices. Her eyes darted from one man to the other then back again. She sighed and glanced at Rory. "I'm sorry, sugar, but he kidnapped my Pierpont," she apologized. She looked to the podium. "I gotta choose Dean, Taylor."

He smirked. "Fair enough, Babette, fair enough," he said, trying to hide his glee. He marked it down and moved to the next person. "Kirk?"

Kirk shifted nervously, avoiding eye contact with the front of the room. "I pass."

"What?" Taylor exclaimed. "You can't pass!"

"They'll beat me up!" Kirk defended, his voice rising with anxiety.

"Don't be silly, Kirk," Babette assured him. "Dean's a sweet boy."

"Tell that to my Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure!"

Dean's cheeks grew red. "That was an accident."

"Sure, it was!" Kirk accused. "I didn't see you at his wake!"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Kirk, your vote."

After a slight hesitation, Kirk mumbled something inaudible.

"What?" Taylor asked, leaning forward.

"Jess. He said Jess," Babette supplied.

Taylor frowned. "It sounded like Dean," he lied.

"No, it was Jess," Babette disagreed.

"Dean, it is," Taylor said with a nod, marking down the vote. "All right, who's next?"

"Hey! No tampering with the votes!" Bootsie yelled. "Give Jess his vote."

Exasperated, Taylor looked at him. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "You voted for Dean, you idiot."

Bootsie shrugged. "Fair is fair."

"Yeah," Lorelai cheered, raising her arms in the air. "Fair is fair, Billie Jean!"

Rory sent her a worried look. 

"It's a great movie, and you know it!"

With a deep, anguished sigh, Taylor erased the mark by Dean's name and placed it by Jess's. "Fine. Luke?"

All eyes turned to the diner owner. He sat with his arms folded over his chest, a scowl on his face. "This is ridiculous."

"Luke, vote now or hold your peace."

"Do you people realize how _insane_ you are?" Luke accused.

"This is an important issue that can and should be decided by fair and impartial vote," Taylor stated.

Luke's blood pressure started to rise. "This is Rory's choice," he said, pointing a finger at her. "_She_ gets to make it."

Rory looked at him gratefully.

Taylor shook his head. "She's not thinking clearly. She can't be trusted."

"Of course, she's not," Luke argued. "No one thinks clearly when they're in love!"

"Since when do you know anything about that?" Taylor huffed.

"It's her decision," Luke repeated.

"Her decision will affect the whole town!"

"To hell with the whole town!"

"Vote now, Luke, or we're moving on."

"I'm not voting," Luke said firmly.

"C'mon, Luke, you have to vote," Lorelai chimed in. "Taylor's right. She's not thinking clearly."

Rory's eyes shot to her mother.

Lorelai patted her on the leg. "You're not, honey. Everyone knows it. Dean is the perfect boyfriend. He's sweet and kind and considerate. Jess is," she waved at him dismissively, "a phase. We're gonna help you through this before you get hurt," she finished, her voice morphing into Emily's. "Don't you worry."

Rory opened her mouth, but no words came out. All her voice would allow was a small squeak.

LorEmily squeezed her arm. "Let us take care of you."

Rory squeaked again.

Lorelai turned her eyes to Luke. "Vote!"

"Fine, you want me to vote?!? I'll vote! Jess!" he boomed. "I vote for Jess! Hear that, Taylor? Jess! J-E-S-S!"

Lorelai glared at Luke then went back to rubbing Rory's arm reassuringly.

"All right, now that that ugliness is over. Father?" Taylor said, turning to the minister. "It's your turn. Who'll it be: Dean or Jess?"

They continued around the room. Rory watched in horror, her mouth feeling like it was full of marbles. Unable to lift her arms. Unable to move. Unable to protest.

Minutes ticked by, and Taylor reached the last two rows. "Ah, Paris, which will it be?"

Her eyes flashing confusion, Rory turned her head to look in the direction of Taylor's gaze. Sure enough, sitting at the end of the row was Paris Gellar. None of this made any sense; Paris wasn't a member of the town. 

Deadly serious, Paris studied the two young men on the stage. Then, she turned to look at Rory. "Once, when I was five, my mother took me to a toy store," she began. "It was the only time in my entire life that she did that – that anyone did it. I remember what it looked like, rows and rows of manufactured, beady eyes staring at me. I remember what it smelled like. I hated that smell. It stayed with me for days. Just thinking back on it makes me want to wretch. All I wanted to do was leave. She told me to pick something out." Paris looked around at the rest of the crowd. "We have more money than God and Donald Trump put together, and she'd only let me choose one thing." Her eyes moved back to Rory. "I narrowed it down to two things: a stuffed bear and a Barbie doll. The bear was soft and warm and safe. I'd never seen or felt anything like it. But the Barbie was taboo and wicked. No self-respecting girl is supposed to want a Barbie. I wanted them both. I didn't know what to do."

"What'd you pick?" Babette hollered.

Paris paused, deep in thought. She shook her head. "I don't remember. My mom saw my choices and forced me to get a chemistry set."

The rest of the crowd melted into the background as Paris continued, each word measured and directed only at Rory. "Try to follow me, Gilmore; I'm only gonna say this once. If you hesitate, the choice is taken out of your hands. So just make the damn choice. It's not that hard."

The crowd snapped back into focus, and the image of Paris started to fade away. Soon, it was like she had never been there at all.

"Lorelai, it's your turn," Taylor stated, turning to the elder Gilmore.

Lorelai looked at Rory and smiled. "Nothing is more important to me than you. You know I just want you to be happy." She brushed a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "That's all I've ever wanted."

Rory felt herself start to relax, let herself believe her mother finally understood. But a beat later…

"Jess will never make you happy. I choose Dean."

Rory's heart sank.

Nodding happily, Taylor jumped to the person sitting to Rory's other side. "Lane?"

Without hesitation, Lane spoke. "Jess."

Tears started to sting at Rory's eyes.

Having reached the last person, Taylor turned to the woman beside him. "Miss Patty?"

Eyes twinkling, she leaned over in her chair and examined the boys from behind. "Hmmm…" she drawled, angling her head left then right. She smiled wickedly. "No offense, Dean, you know I love you, but Jess has that extra something, if you know what I mean."

Both men shifted uncomfortably.

Miss Patty reclined back into her seat and smiled. "I choose Jess."

Taylor cleared his throat and looked down at the tally. "After adding my vote for Dean, that brings us to…" He counted up the votes, frowned, and then counted them again. Bewildered, he looked at the crowd. "A tie."

A murmur spread among them. Taylor counted again. "How is that possible?" he asked. "I made sure we had an odd number of people." 

"I'll say," Luke mumbled under his breath.

The crowd looked at each other.

After a moment, Kirk stood up and dramatically pointed an accusing finger at Rory. "She didn't vote!" he exclaimed.

All eyes turned to her.

Taylor nodded. "That's right, Kirk. It seems Rory _didn't_ vote. Now, Rory dear, you must vote. You get just as much of a say in this as anyone else. And we _know_ you'll make the right choice," he pressured.

Rory shifted, uncomfortable under the stares. Her eyes journeyed over the faces around her: Luke's disgruntled but hopeful expression, Lane's supportive smile, her mother's brow furrowed in worry. Slowly, her gaze reached the stage, and she looked at Dean, always sweet and caring. He smiled at her. A tear rolled down her cheek. Feeling her heart quicken with anticipation, she drifted her eyes to where Jess stood.

But he was gone.

With a jolt, Rory's eyes flew open, and she sat upright. Every muscle in her body was twitching, and her heart was beating violently. Her gaze darted around the room, and she slowly took in the familiar presence of her dresser and desk. Her curtains were billowing gracefully in the night wind, carrying in the town's spring scents. The breeze brushed her cheeks and cooled the tears she hadn't realized were there. She blinked and focused on a pinpoint, calmly reassuring herself that none of it had been real. That he was right across town. After a moment, she leaned back against her pillow. Slowly, her memory of the dream receded… but the loneliness she'd felt remained.

***

Bare-chested, Jess walked out of the bathroom and hurried over to his dresser. Pulling out a shirt, he yanked it on and impatiently fastened the buttons as he shuffled to the refrigerator. Reaching it, he pulled the door open and grabbed a carton of orange juice. It felt light, but upon shaking it, he decided there was just enough for a glass. He lifted it to his lips and took a long sip as he shut the fridge door again. Abruptly, he stopped mid-motion, the carton still raised to his lips. He blinked and lowered the juice. Reaching out, he snatched the papers from the magnet and marched towards the door, pausing only long enough to set the juice on a table on the way out.

"What the hell is this?" Jess asked, holding the papers in the air.

Luke glanced up from the customer he was serving. "I'll be right back," he said calmly before heading towards his nephew. He looked at the papers. "It's your test."

"Yeah, I know it's my test," Jess said angrily. "How the hell did it get on the refrigerator door?"

"I put it there."

"You put it there?" Jess repeated.

"Yeah," Luke nodded.

"I can't believe this!"

"What?" Luke asked, confused. "That's what you do when your kid gets a good grade on something."

"I'm _not_ your kid!" Jess fumed.

"I know that, Jess, but you're living with _me_ now, so I get to put your good grades on _my_ refrigerator."

"No, you don't," Jess disagreed. "Where did you get this?"

"It was on the floor."

"No, it wasn't. It was in my pocket. Were you digging through my stuff?"

"No, of course not. It was on the floor. It must've fallen out of your pocket."

"Yeah, right," Jess scoffed.

Luke stared at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _you_?" Jess threw back. He crumpled the paper into a ball. "This is none of your business."

"Yeah, it _is_ my business. When you screw up, it's my business, which means I get to make it my business when you do something right. I get to be proud of you, whether you like it or not."

Jess shook his head. "I cheated."

"No, you didn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I saw the test, Jess. No one but you could come up with those answers."

"Whatever," Jess dismissed.

Luke sighed, his chest swelling with pride despite Jess's attitude. "I can't believe you got a B," he said in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, don't worry," Jess raged. "It won't happen again." Without another word, he stormed across the diner and out the door, throwing the crumpled test into the garbage on the way out.

Mouth open, Luke stared after him, not quite sure what had just happened.

***

"Hi Luke," Lorelai greeted cheerfully, sliding onto a stool at the counter.

Luke smiled and immediately turned to get her a mug of coffee. "Rory coming?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Nope, she's headed to school already."

"Aw, really? That's too bad."

"Yeah," Lorelai nodded. "But she's working on her Veruca Salt impression today, so you aren't missing much. Trust me."

"Who?" Luke asked, setting the steaming mug in front of her.

"Veruca Salt, the brat in _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_."

"Rory? Really?"

"Well, she's more grumpy than bratty," Lorelai conceded. "But it was the first name that came to mind."

"Ah."

"Yeah," Lorelai shrugged. "So, what's with this?" she asked, pointing at the coffee. "I didn't even have to beg."

"Rory didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Luke opened his mouth to explain, but then, thinking better of it, he decided to wait and see if Rory ever planned on telling her about their deal. "Nothing," he said instead.

"Ooh, mysterious. I have my ways, you know."

Luke nodded. "Believe me, I know."

Lorelai smiled and sipped her coffee.

"You're awfully cheerful today," he observed.

"Am I?" Lorelai asked coyly.

"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you when you're older," she teased.

He waved his hand. "Forget I asked."

She grinned. Needing something to do, Luke moved to the pastry case and pulled out a chocolate donut. Grabbing a napkin, he set it down in front of her. "On the house."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.

A second later, he cleared his throat.

She looked up at him. He looked conflicted. "Luke?"

"You put Rory's tests and stuff on the refrigerator, right?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied, surprised by his question. "I used to."

"You don't anymore?"

"Our refrigerator couldn't hold the weight," she explained.

"Right. Makes sense," he accepted. Then, after a brief pause, "But she liked it, didn't she? When you did that?"

Lorelai smiled, remembering. "She _loved_ it; made her feel special."

"See, that's what I thought," Luke concurred.

"Made me feel special too."

Luke shook his head. "I just don't get it," he muttered.

"Get what?"

"Jess."

Lorelai nodded. "There's a surprise."

"He got a B."

"Sting?"

"No, on his test."

"On his chest? Ow."

"No, on his _test_," Luke clarified.

"Okay, I am _not_ finishing that one."

"Jess got a B on his History test," Luke clarified.

"Wait, what? Jess got a B? As in, the grade?"

Luke nodded proudly. "Yeah, that studying with Rory really helped."

"Wow," Lorelai exclaimed, surprised.

"I know."

"So what don't you get?"

"I put his test on the fridge, and he freaked out."

"You put Jess's test on your refrigerator?" Lorelai repeated, fighting a smile. "That's so cute, Luke."

"Is that why he's mad? Because it's cute?"

"I think I'm the _last_ person to try to explain Jess to you."

Luke nodded, disappointed.

Lorelai frowned. "It was a nice thing you did."

"You think?"

"I know."

"More coffee?" he offered, spinning to grab the pot again.

She smiled, enjoying this new fatherly side that was starting to emerge. "Jess is really lucky, you know that?"

Luke turned back around and angled the pot towards her mug. "He's a good kid… underneath it all."

"Well, either way, he's really lucky to have you," she repeated.

He met her eyes. She smiled and motioned to the mug. "Fill 'er up!"

***

Rory stared at Paris. Normally, she paid close attention to English class, to any class really, but at the moment, she could not get Paris's "warning" out of her mind. She couldn't remember most of the details of her dream, but Paris's role was still vivid. 

Paris glanced at her and caught her staring. Rory immediately jerked her eyes to the front of the room. Paris frowned and looked away, and Rory peered at her again out of the corners of her eyes. The bell rang.

Shoving her things into her bag, Paris marched over. "What's going on?"

Rory glanced up. "Nothing."

"Do I have something on my face or something?"

"No."

"Would you even tell me if I did?"

"Yes," Rory promised.

"You were staring at me," Paris said bluntly.

Rory shifted in her seat.

"Never take a lie detector test, Gilmore. You squirm like a mafia mole."

Rory grabbed her bag and headed towards the door.

"Hey, why were you staring at me?" Paris called, following after her.

Rory kept walking then stopped abruptly, catching Paris by surprise. "Did you ever want a Barbie?"

Paris frowned. "The doll?"

"Yeah."

"Like a hole in the head," Paris answered.

Rory nodded and began walking again. "That's what I thought."

"Are you on something?" Paris asked, keeping pace.

"What?!? No! Why would you think that?"

"Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're asking weird questions."

Rory scrunched her forehead. "I'm not on anything, Paris."

"Fine, why were you staring at me?"

Rory sighed. "I had this dream, and you gave me some advice, and I was trying to figure out if there was any truth to it."

"I gave you advice in a dream?"

"Yes."

"What was the advice?"

Rory turned to her. "You said that if I didn't choose between a bear and a Barbie, I'd end up with a chemistry set."

"Are you sure you're not on something?" Paris asked.

"Yes," Rory defended before starting to walk again.

"So what did you choose: the bear or the Barbie?"

Rory shrugged. "I didn't."

"So, I gave you advice in a dream, and you didn't take it?"

Rory didn't reply.

"Are you sure you're not on something?"

***

The bell above the diner door chimed, and Luke looked up. He watched as Jess walked past the counter, his eyes averted, and headed upstairs. Calling to Caesar, Luke threw his pen and notepad on the counter and followed after him.

As soon as he entered the apartment, Jess turned to him. "Are you serious?" he asked, gesturing to the refrigerator.

Luke glanced over at the crumpled test that was once again hanging on the door. "It stays," he said firmly.

"You do realize you've lost it, right? You just took _my_ test out of the garbage and hung it on the door that holds our _food_."

"It stays," Luke repeated.

"Whatever," Jess mumbled. He bent down and grabbed a book off his shelf, then headed to the door.

Luke moved in front of him. "Here's the deal, Jess."

"Can I go?" Jess asked, pointing at the door.

Luke ignored him. "You got a B on that test. I don't know why you're not proud of it, but I am. This is _my_ apartment._ I_ pay the rent. _I_ pay the utilities. _I_ buy the food. So if I want to hang your test on _my_ refrigerator, your test is going to hang on my refrigerator."

"Whatever," Jess repeated.

"I don't know how you did it, but you did it. So here's what I'm going to do. That," he said, pointing at the test, "stays there, and you get the next few days off from work."

"What?"

"I'm even gonna pay you. It's, uh, what do you call it? Positive reinforcement."

"Who have you been talking to?" Jess asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You don't want the days off?"

"Time free of you? Gee, how can I resist?" Jess said sarcastically.

"Great," Luke said, nodding.

"Great," Jess replied. He moved around Luke and walked to the door.

"There's one condition."

Jess paused and turned to him. "How did I not see that coming?"

"You don't work on Thursday, but you have to be back here at five."

"That sounds like working."

Luke shook his head. "Not working…. _studying_."

"You're gonna force me to study?"

"_Rory_," Luke corrected, "is going to force you to study."

"What?"

"She agreed to tutor you some more."

"I'm not interested."

"Sure, you are."

"No, I'm _not_."

Luke sighed in exasperation. "If you study," he explained. "You get a good grade, the test goes on the refrigerator, and you get paid vacation. How is this not good?"

"It's blackmail."

"It's positive reinforcement," Luke clarified.

Jess rolled his eyes. "Call it whatever you want. I'm leaving."

"Don't forget, Jess. Thursday at 5."

Jess glared at him over his shoulder and slammed the door.

Luke stared at the closed door and nodded, his lips pursed. "Well, that went well."

***

"You have grumpitis," Lorelai stated, eyeing her daughter as they walked towards the diner.

"No, I don't."

Lorelai reached out and felt her forehead. Remembering her dream, Rory pulled away, and her hand was left hanging in midair. Stopping, Lorelai turned to her. "What's wrong?"

Rory frowned and shook her head. "Nothing."

"You know, I hear if you talk about it in time, you can stop it before it becomes a permanent condition."

"I don't have grumpitis."

Growing irritated, Lorelai narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure 'cuz I think it might be contagious."

"Can't I just be grumpy for a day?" Rory asked.

Lorelai shook her head. "You are she of sunshine and light and happiness," she said melodramatically. "You make the birds sing and the children dance. No grumpy allowed."

Rory stared at her.

"I was joking. Of course, you can be grumpy, but if I can help…"

"You want me to be happy, right?"

Lorelai gave her a confused look. "I thought that was the point of this whole conversation."

"Not just today."

"Of course I want you to be happy. Always."

"No matter what?"

"Yes, no matter what. Where's this coming from?"

Rory sighed and started walking again. "I had a dream. You turned into Grandma."

"You had a dream where I turned into my mother?"

"Just your voice," Rory tried to reassure her.

"The grumpitis is _definitely_ contagious," Lorelai frowned. She glanced at Rory. "So in this dream, I didn't want you to be happy?"

Rory shrugged.

"Babe, you can't blame me. I was Emily. She doesn't want anyone to be happy."

Rory felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. "You wanted me to be happy."

"Oh, okay. Good."

"On your own terms."

"See, now that was _definitely_ my mother."

Rory smiled. Lorelai reached over and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I want you to be happy on your terms," she said honestly.

Rory glanced up at her. "But what if the terms are a result of unclear thinking?"

"Then, all the better," Lorelai assured her. "I made some of my better decisions when I wasn't thinking clearly. How do you think I ended up with you?"

Rory smiled and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder as they walked. 

"Oh my God," Lorelai exclaimed, seeing her smile. "I think she's cured."

"Unfortunately," Rory stated. "Grumpitis might be a recurring problem."

Lorelai leaned down and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "You don't say? And here I thought I was home free. We better get you some coffee."

"Ooh, _free_ coffee!" Rory cooed.

Lorelai grinned evilly. "And Luke's deep, dark secret, at last, is revealed."

Rory frowned. "But there's a catch."

"Of course, there is," she accepted. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself. "Hit me with it."

***

"So, this Thursday?" Lorelai clarified, dropping her purse onto the table and taking a seat. "For how long?"

Rory shrugged. "As long as it takes."

"But we get free coffee?"

Rory nodded.

"How much free coffee, exactly?"

"I think that's negotiable."

Lorelai nodded. "Hmm… okay, I think I can agree to those terms."

"Really?"

"Sure. Why not? It's not like _I'm_ gonna have to put up with him."

"Gee, thanks."

"Dean might not take it so well though."

Rory sighed. "I know."

"Just tell him about the coffee."

"I don't think it will have quite the same effect on him."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But speaking of the coffee…" Lorelai peered around the diner. "This place is a madhouse."

As she spoke, Luke rushed by. "Hey, Luke, your secret's out. We want our coffee."

He nodded but kept going. "One second."

Thirty seconds later – each one counted out loud by Lorelai – Luke returned with the pot and two mugs. "So you told her, huh?" he asked Rory.

Lorelai nodded. "I'm familiar with the terms, although I would like to see them in writing."

"Free coffee for as long as it takes Rory to help Jess."

"It's a deal," she agreed. Then, turning to Rory, she added, "Confuse him now and then, honey. Drag it out."

Rory nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Speaking of the Term, where is he?" Lorelai asked, looking around the diner.

"I gave him a few days off. Positive reinforcement," Luke explained proudly.

"Wow, someone's been brushing up on their self-help psychobabble."

"It was Liz's idea."

"You talked to Liz?"

"I thought she should know how well Jess is doing."

Lorelai smiled. "I bet she was proud."

"Yeah, she was."

"Good. That's really good."

"Yeah," Luke agreed. He looked around at the full tables. "How about I just leave this with you?" he offered, setting down the pot. "Let me know if you need a refill," he added before hurrying to wait on the tables.

Wide-eyed, Lorelai looked at Rory. "He left us the pot."

"He's really proud," Rory stated, smiling.

"Hell, for a pot of free coffee, I'm willing to be proud of Jess too."

"I'm sure he appreciates that."

"I wonder what we'll get if you snag him an A."

"The whole diner?" Rory suggested.

"Ooh, you think? In that case, I've been giving it some thought, and I know exactly where we should put the jukebox."

***

Lorelai and Rory turned the corner towards their house, and immediately their eyes fell on Dean. He stood up from where he was sitting on their stairs and waved. Rory forced a smile and waved back.

When they reached the house, Lorelai greeted him, gave Rory a reassuring smile, and headed inside. Dean leaned down and kissed Rory. When he pulled away, she smiled a little and sat down on the stoop. He joined her.

"Did I know you were coming over?" she asked.

"Nope, I just wanted to see you."

"Oh, that's nice," she said lamely.

He leaned over and kissed her again. "You taste like coffee."

She grinned. "Don't I always taste like coffee?"

"Were you at the diner?"

"Um, yeah, we got dinner."

He nodded. "Oh. Anything exciting happen?"

She shook her head. "Nope." 

"Okay," he accepted.

She looked at him, and he smiled. She looked away; she had to tell him eventually. Biting her lip, she said softly, "Actually, Luke gave us free coffee."

"Yeah?"

"A whole pot."

"Your mom must've flipped."

"She was pretty excited," Rory agreed.

"So what was the occasion?"

"Uh," Rory said, staring at her hands. "I'm sort of doing him a favor."

Dean gave her a confused look. "Yeah? What kind of favor?"

"Um, Luke needed someone to help Jess study," she explained. "So he asked me."

"And you said yes?"

She glanced at him. "Luke never asks for favors."

"Maybe that's because he shouldn't," Dean fumed.

"Dean…"

"I don't get it. There's no reason you should help him."

"Luke asked me."

"Luke can find someone else. Luke _should_ find someone else."

"It's just studying."

"Tell Jess that."

"What?"

"He's using you, Rory. Figure it out."

"Jess is _not_ using me."

"He'll probably fail on purpose so you have to keep helping him."

"That's not true. He already got a B," she argued.

"Great. Then he doesn't need a tutor. Back out."

Rory sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear.

"What, Rory?"

She glanced up at him and then back at her hands. "Remember when you were in Chicago?"

"It was less than a week ago," Dean snipped.

"I tutored Jess while you were gone. That's why he got the B."

Dean's eyes widened. "You what?"

"It's not a big deal."

He stood up and turned to face her. "Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd overreact."

"So you helped him study, and he got a B?"

She nodded. "That's why Luke wants me to help him again."

"Did you ever think that maybe he got a B, so Luke would ask you?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Yeah?" Dean asked angrily. "Since when does Jess care about school?"

"I don't know. He—"

"I go to that school, Rory. He's _never_ there," Dean said, waving his clenched fist in the air. "He doesn't care about school or the test. This is about you."

"Stop yelling."

"Tell Luke no."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I can't."

"Fine."

"Dean," she pleaded, standing up. "I'm sorry."

"I'll see you later." He started to walk away.

She followed after him. "Dean."

He kept walking.

Hurrying inside, Rory grabbed a jacket and stormed back out. 

"Rory?" Lorelai called after her, but she was already gone.

***

She went straight to the bridge. At first, she didn't see him. But her blurry eyes scanned the perimeter, and she quickly found him. He was sitting a short distance away from the bridge, his back against a tree and a book resting on his bent legs. He was practically invisible to anyone who didn't know to look.

She marched across the bridge to where he was sitting. "Why'd you do it, Jess?" she fumed.

He looked up in bewilderment. "Do what?"

"Take that test. Why did you do it?"

He dropped his book on the ground and stood up, needing to be on an equal level. "Why do you care?"

"Luke is making me tutor you. Did you do that on purpose? Because you know I wouldn't hurt him by saying no?"

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"I'm with Dean. Can't you understand that?" she asked. Confusion raced through her veins. She didn't even know why she was standing here yelling at him.

"Look, you've made it abundantly clear who you're with. _You're_ the one who keeps coming to me."

"No, I don't."

"I was sitting here minding my own business, and you just stormed over. Are you sure you don't want to rethink that?"

"You took that test and got a B, so I'd have to study with you."

He looked at her in disbelief. "I get a B on a test, and you're making it about you?"

"It is about me."

"Not everything is about you, Rory!" he yelled. She jumped, startled by the volume of his voice. "Jesus," he muttered, leaning down to grab his book then heading towards the bridge.

She turned and followed after him. "Fine. What is it about?" When he kept walking, she grabbed his arm. He whirled around to face her. "Jess, what is it about?"

"Nothing, Rory! It's about _nothing_!"

His eyes were wild, and she knew he was lying. He looked sad and lost. She took a step forward. The next thing she knew, her hand was wrapped around his neck, and she was crushing his lips to hers.

Taken by complete surprise, he froze in place, his book thumping onto the wooden bridge as it slipped from his grasp. After a beat, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her slightly, pulling her closer. She ran her hand up to his cheek then gently pulled away.

Bewildered, he searched her eyes, but she quickly shifted them down to the bridge. Seeing his book, she stooped and picked it up. She held it out. He looked down and reached out to take it. The moment he felt the weight of it shift from her hand to his, she brushed by him and hurried across the bridge then out of sight.

***

The front door clicked shut, and Lorelai whipped her head around. "Rory," she said urgently, standing up. "There you are. What happened with Dean? Where'd you go?"

Numb, Rory walked around the couch and sat down.

Lorelai sat beside her. "Rory?"

"I kissed Jess," she said, her voice quiet.

Lorelai froze, processing the information. 

"Twice," Rory added softly.

There was a long silence. Then, Lorelai did the only thing she could. Taking a deep breath, she drew her daughter close and whispered, "Okay."


	19. Breathe

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 19: Breathe**

**_Disclaimer: _**_If I were Amy Sherman-Palladino, the following would be true of this story: Rory would be an idiotic, cruel floozy; Jess would be a mis-portrayed plot device; and all roads would lead to Dean. I am not Amy Sherman-Palladino. She owns all of that crap._

**_Author's Note_**_: Though I no longer have an interest in the show as it exists today, I will always be invested in the characters. Fanfiction must go on. This chapter is dedicated to those of you who persevere despite writer's block, disenchantment, and frustration. Without you, Stars Hollow would be a cold, bitter place. Thanks for your stories – past, present, and future. (Everyone check out angeleyez's stuff. It's fantastic; I promise!) – Becka_

Her saddle shoes tapped lightly against the pavement as she made her way across town to the bus stop. She closed her eyes as she walked, letting the breeze wash over her face. The early morning spring air was slightly moist with dew. When she'd first stepped outside, she'd noted the way it clung to the tips of flowers and blades of grass like tiny crystalline tears. But now, against her cheeks, it felt warm and soothing.

She took a deep breath, letting it fill and expand her lungs. The sensation felt foreign and overpowering like her body wasn't quite prepared for it. She exhaled then inhaled again. With each breath, she felt stronger.

In the bright sunlight of the day, nothing made sense. Everything was still a mess. And yet her shoulders were more relaxed, her head felt a little clearer. With four voiced syllables, a weight had been lifted.

Leaves rustled in the trees while birds sang from their homes high amid the limbs. Rory smiled. It felt good, breathing again.

:::

"She told me."

"What? Who?" Sookie asked, turning from the stove to look at her best friend.

"Rory. We talked last night."

"See," Sookie said proudly. "I told you not to worry." She waved her spatula in the air and turned back to the food. "Didn't I tell you not to worry?"

"Tell me again."

Sookie shook her head, still eyeing the bubbling sauce. "What?"

"Tell me not to worry again," Lorelai said desperately.

Sookie giggled, not noticing her friend's tone. "Ok. Don't worry."

There was a pause then Lorelai shook her head. "Nope, didn't help."

"Don't worry," Sookie repeated, glancing at Lorelai over her shoulder.

"Not helping. I thought it would help, but it's not helping."

Sookie turned around. "Don't worry?" she said hesitantly, now frowning.

"_Still_ not helping, Sookie! I'm freaking out."

"You're freaking me out," she answered. "Why are we freaking out?"

"She likes Jess."

Sookie hesitated, surprised. "Didn't we know that?"

"She likes _Jess_, Sookie. _Jess_ Jess. She _likes_ him. _Like_ like."

"Right," Sookie nodded. "She has a little crush."

"She kissed him, Sookie. She kissed _Jess_. _Jess_ Jess. She kissed—"

"You're saying everything twice. Why are you saying everything twice?" Sookie asked frantically, her anxiety rising to match Lorelai's.

"Because I'm freaking out!"

"You're freaking me out!"

"I know! But she likes Jess. God, someday she may even love him. _Jess_ Je—"

"I know! I know!" Sookie interrupted. "Oh god, I'm doing it too. We need to regain control," she stated. "Sit down."

Lorelai sat down on a nearby stool.

"Tell me what she said," Sookie ordered.

"That she kissed Jess. _Twice_."

"Twice? Oh, that's not good."

"Not helping, Sookie."

"I'm sorry. It's just – usually I'm you, and you're me," she explained, jabbing a finger at Lorelai and then at herself. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"What?"

"Usually I'm doing the freaking, and you're doing the calming. This is all jumbled."

"Well, pretend you're me!" Lorelai demanded.

Sookie nodded. "Okay, okay, I can do that. It would help if I had a stool to stand on or maybe…" she babbled, looking around.

"Sookie!"

"Right. Okay. Ooh, deep breath. You always say that I should take a deep breath."

Lorelai nodded. "Okay."

They both inhaled deeply then exhaled.

"Ok, I've deep-breathed."

"Now, just calmly tell me what happened."

"Uh… well… Rory and I got home, and Dean was waiting for her. I went inside, they got into a fight, and she disappeared. Next thing I know, she comes home, sits down on the couch, and tells me she kissed Jess. Twice."

"Okay," Sookie nodded. "What did you say?"

"I said okay."

"And then?"

"And then she told me everything. It just spilled out of her in a rush. It all started with that snowman, that _stupid_ snowman. That wasn't exactly new news, but it just irritates me all over again every time I—"

"Snowman?" Sookie interrupted. "What snowman?"

"Oh, that's right. You don't know. Rory and Jess destroyed that snowman. That's the only reason we won."

"The Scrooge snowman from the contest?"

"That's the one."

"But I always thought that was you."

"Thought what was me?" Lorelai asked, confused.

"I thought _you_ killed the snowman."

"You thought _I_ did that?" Lorelai repeated, aghast. "Sookie! I would never cheat!"

"Right," Sookie giggled. "What about the time you—"

Lorelai cut her off. "We're getting off-track. The point is that all of this time Rory has been hanging out with Jess. I knew most of it, but hearing it listed off like Letterman's Top Ten of Secret Dates… it just… I just –"

"It took you by surprise."

"That's putting it mildly."

"So what did you do?"

Lorelai's brow furrowed. "I said okay."

"That's all?"

"What else could I say, Sookie? She likes Jess."

"So you said okay, and then what? What'd she say?"

"She asked me what she should do."

"Oh, no! You didn't…"

"Scream 'get thee to a nunnery'?"

Sookie couldn't help but smile. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I didn't. It was there… on the tip of my tongue… but I didn't."

"What did you say?"

Lorelai sighed. "I told her I love her."

"Much better choice."

"And that I want her to be happy."

"Good," Sookie encouraged. "That's good."

"And that it's her decision."

"See, this all sounds very good."

"Yes, Sookie," Lorelai exclaimed, frustrated. "Except for the Jess part. Do you remember Jess? He's a disaster. Dean will be history, and she'll be with _Jess_. What if she gets pregnant? Then, suddenly, there will be a little baby with a smug smirk and hair gel holding its little curls in place. It'll scowl and read."

"Smart baby," Sookie chimed in.

Lorelai ignored her and kept going. "And swear and smoke and be a big jerk. And they'll have to live in a car because Jess has no ambitions or goals, and Rory will be too busy taking care of the baby. There'll be no college. No Harvard. No CNN. It'll just be Rory and Jess and the smirking gelled baby in a car by the side of the road."

"You could give them a room in the Inn," Sookie suggested.

"I'm serious, Sookie. This is her future."

"Okay, but, honey, that's the worst case scenario."

"No, it isn't. As bad as _that_ is, that isn't even the worst case scenario."

Sookie frowned. "What could be worse than that?"

"He could break her heart."

"Oh, sweetie," Sookie said sympathetically. She sat down on a nearby stool and wrapped an arm around her.

"She was sitting there, talking, and all I wanted to do was chain her up in the closet to keep her away from him."

"Probably not the best idea."

"No, the best idea is to chain _him_ in a closet to keep him away from her."

Sookie smiled. "That can be our Plan B."

"I didn't know we had a Plan A."

"You've already started Plan A."

"I did? When did I do that? What is it?"

"You support her."

Lorelai sighed.

"And I support you."

"This plan seems a little weak."

Sookie smiled and rubbed her arm. "It's a good plan."

Lorelai nodded and leaned her head on her friend's shoulder. "Can I at least buy the chains? Just in case?"

Sookie giggled. "Sure."

"Sure?"

"There's no reason not to be prepared."

Lorelai smiled, but, after a moment, she sighed again. "You should've heard her. She really seems to like him."

Unsure of what to say, Sookie rested her head against Lorelai's, and they sat together in silence.

:::

Rory had just stepped off the bus and started towards home when a voice called out from behind her.

"Rory!"

She turned around and saw Dean jogging towards her, a Styrofoam cup in one hand and a small paper bag in the other.

"Hey," he smiled, reaching her side.

She avoided his eyes and mumbled a 'hey' in return.

He held out the cup of coffee. "Peace offering."

She glanced at it and then took a quick peek at him. "Thanks," she said flatly, taking it from him.

"I had a feeling that wouldn't do it," he stated, holding out the paper bag.

Confused, she met his gaze directly.

"Peace offerings," he rephrased, emphasizing the 'S'.

Her eyebrows scrunched together uncertainly as she reached out for the bag. She peeked inside, and a tiny smile curled up the edges of her lips. "Caramel roll?"

"With lots of pecans, just like you like it. That one had the most pecans in the whole store."

She gave him a skeptical look.

He smiled. "I made Kirk count."

She nodded as the grin overtook her face. "Well, thank you, but you should know that I don't respond to bribes."

"What about apologies?"

"Apologies tend to be more effective," she agreed.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I shouldn't have freaked out like that. I don't know what happened."

"It's my fault," Rory admitted. "I should've told you about helping Jess as soon as you got back."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, you should have, but it's okay, and if you really think you need to help him again," he added, each word painful to speak out loud. "Then, I guess I'm okay with that too."

"You are?"

He shrugged. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

Rory sighed. "I promised Luke."

"I know."

"This will be the last time."

"Okay," he accepted.

Rory smiled and looked down at the bag. "I'm starving."

"I figured," he grinned. "Here." He took the bag from her and pulled out the sticky bun.

She reached out with her free hand to take it, but instead he held it up to her lips. She glanced at him, slightly uncomfortable. Then, carefully, she took a small bite.

As she started to chew, he moved the roll aside and leaned down, grazing his lips over hers. As he pulled away, he whispered another apology.

She smiled, and, satisfied, he handed the pastry to her. But as they walked towards her house, she looked down at it and frowned. She was no longer hungry.

:::

"Hey Michel," Lorelai greeted, as she moved behind the desk to check messages before she headed home.

"That man has been calling incessantly," Michel complained, gesturing at the slips of paper.

"Which man?"

"The one with the month for a name."

"Who?"

"I don't know. March, July, October, whatever his name is."

"August?" Lorelai asked, glancing at the papers.

"Perhaps."

She grinned. "August McCullough."

"Is that a name or a skin condition?"

"Down boy," Lorelai chided. "No need to get jealous."

Michel rolled his eyes.

"Wait," Lorelai stated, flicking through the slips again. "He called once. I thought you said he was calling incessantly."

"It seemed like more."

"He called once, and you're complaining?"

"He tends to go on."

"This message just says, 'Tell Lorelai to call'," she said, holding it up. "What else did he say?"

"I cannot remember."

"Did he say more than that?"

"He gave his number."

"And that was it?"

"It seemed like more."

"Marcel Marceau says more than that."

"Marcel Marceau is not as annoying."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes and slipped the message into her pocket. "I'm going home."

"I'll try to restrain my weeping."

"Good-night, Michel."

"Good-night."

She glared at him as she grabbed her coat off the hook and headed towards the door. As she was about to leave, she saw a man sitting nearby. Glancing at Michel to make sure he wasn't watching, she hurried over to him. "Hey," she said quickly, using her most flirtatious, damsel-in-distress voice. "I'm the manager of this inn, and our phone doesn't seem to be working. Could you do me a favor and call the front desk ten or twenty times?"

"Uh, okay," the man answered.

"Here's ten dollars. The longer the call, the better."

He nodded and took the bill. She patted him on the shoulder. Then, with an evil smile, she walked out the door.

:::

"Rory! These bags are trying to kill me!" Lorelai called as she tried to wedge herself through their front door.

Moving her textbook off her lap, Rory stood and hurried to her mother's aid. "What is all of that?" she asked, eyeing the purse, two medium-sized paper bags, and giant plastic bag that her mother was carrying.

"Help now, ask questions later."

"Right," Rory agreed, grabbing the paper bag that was slipping from Lorelai's grasp.

They shuffled into the living room where Lorelai loudly dropped the rest of the bags onto the floor. "Why is it that the purse always falls off the shoulder at the worst possible time?"

"Gravity?" Rory offered.

"Evil demons."

Rory smiled. "Or that."

"Evil purse-snatching demons that wait until you're at your weakest and then drag the strap down your arm at painfully slow increments, just so you think you have a chance of saving it."

"I've never seen these demons."

"They're invisible."

"Oh."

"And everywhere."

"Oh!" Rory exclaimed, glancing at the floor.

"Don't worry. They only want purses."

"Good to know," Rory nodded. "Do I smell food?"

Lorelai grinned. "You might."

Rory sniffed the air. "Cheeseburgers and cheese fries."

"And cheesecake," Lorelai added, handing over the other paper bag.

Rory set it on the table and started pulling out the plastic containers. "We haven't had a Cheese Night in forever."

"I thought it was about time."

"Good thing I'm not lactose intolerant," Rory stated, eyeing all of the cheese products.

"I traded that baby in for you."

Rory shrugged. "Nobody wants a dud."

Lorelai pulled off her coat. "Unless it's a Milk Dud," she said, kissing the top of Rory's head as she sat down on the couch.

"Don't tease the poor lactose intolerant baby."

"You're right; I'm cruel. Hand me the Cheez Whiz."

Rory passed it over and settled back with her food. "So, if the paper bags held food, what's in the plastic bag?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," Lorelai said, reaching out to grab it. "This is a surprise."

"For who?"

"My little Milk Dud."

Rory grinned. "Me?"

"Could be," Lorelai teased.

"What is it?"

"Plan A."

"Huh?"

"Put your food down."

Rory set her container on the coffee table and turned to her mother.

Lorelai took a deep breath. "So, I was thinking about our talk last night."

"Oh," Rory frowned.

Lorelai smiled at her reassuringly. "I know that you know I like Dean."

"Mm-hmm," Rory nodded, her lips set in a tight line.

"And Jess is… well… Jess."

"He is," Rory agreed.

"But, regardless of my feelings for Dean or Jess, what's important is that I love you, and I want you to believe it."

Rory met her mother's eyes.

"So I got you a few things," she finished.

"Okay," Rory said hesitantly.

Lorelai grinned and reached into the plastic bag. "Number 1: The teddy bear," she stated, holding out the medium-sized, brown, plush teddy bear. "Floppy hair and all."

Rory smiled nervously and took it.

"Now," Lorelai continued. "I don't want you to think I'm biased so… Number 2: The Barbie." She pulled out a pink box and handed it to her daughter. "A Ken doll in a leather jacket. It was the closest to brooding I could find. I never noticed how happy-go-lucky Ken is."

Rory grinned and looked at the doll, then back up at her mother.

"Now," Lorelai said. "I can't help you choose. You and I both know that. But I also know that you are the smartest, wisest, most thoughtful and beautiful person I've ever known. No matter what you do, it will be the right thing, and no matter what happens, I'll support you."

A painful lump formed in Rory's throat.

"And, despite the floppy-haired teddy bears and brooding Kens that will walk in and out of our lives, you and I are a team, and we always will be. You're what matters to me, Rory, and I always, _always_ want you to remember that." She reached into the bag and pulled out the last item. "So, in keeping with the childhood theme tonight, I got you this."

Rory glanced down at the book her mother held and smiled. Then, she looked at Lorelai again, tears tingling at the backs of her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly.

Lorelai pulled her close. "You're welcome."

Rory sniffed back her tears. "Will you read it?"

Lorelai laughed. "Our food is already getting cold."

"That's what microwaves are for."

"Ok, but this very special moment threatens to give Cheese Night new meaning," Lorelai joked.

"I don't care," Rory said, resting her head onto her mother's warm shoulder.

Lorelai smiled. "Me either." Flipping open the book, she turned to the first page. "God, I haven't done this since you were three and could do it yourself."

"I know," Rory said wistfully.

Lorelai glanced down at her, remembering back to the days when Rory was just a tiny, wide-eyed girl with a mop of brown hair, and they'd lay side-by-side on the creaky bed in the shed they called home, reading. It was a long time ago, and yet it seemed like yesterday. She smiled and turned her eyes back to the book. Softly, she began to read:

_Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening. "Guess how much I love you," he said._

_"Oh, I don't think I could guess that," said Big Nutbrown Hare._

:::

"It's Thursday." That was Rory's first thought when she woke up the following morning. "Thursday." From one second to the next, her stomach fluctuated between being excited and sick. "Thursday."

After showering and dressing in her Chilton uniform, she took a deep breath and glanced around her room. Her eyes moved to her standalone shelf, focusing in on a particular book. She walked towards it and picked it up, breezing through the pages with her fingers. Memories of a distant night flashed through her mind. As she skimmed the text, however, she realized that was all she felt: warm recollections of a time past… and nothing else. No anticipation or excitement or giddiness.

Still holding the book, she looked at the two objects she'd set on her desk the night before. A calm sadness swept over her.

She walked to the desk and ran her eyes over the books lined up neatly on the shelf above it. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled it from its place. Opening to a random page, she began to read – not the typeset words but those scrawled neatly in the margins. Her heart began to race as she reread the words; she couldn't remember how many times she'd read them before, but she nearly had them memorized. She smiled as her morning butterflies settled on excitement. She grabbed her backpack from the back of the desk chair and tucked both books inside. Then, without looking back, she left the room.

:::

"He called again," Michel whined, holding out the piece of paper as Lorelai walked past.

"Gus?"

"Yes. Would you please just call him back and put me out of my misery?"

Lorelai smiled. "Were there any other calls yesterday?"

Michel glared at her. "Your joke was not funny."

"What joke?"

"Next time you pay someone to harass me, I suggest telling him to leave the vicinity first."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said innocently

"I threatened to confiscate his cell phone, and he ratted you out."

"How many calls did he get in first?"

"I will never tell."

"C'mon, Michel. It was funny."

He looked at her with a completely straight face.

"It was funny," she repeated.

"No. It wasn't."

"It was a little funny."

"Call the skin condition."

"Fine," Lorelai moped. "But I'm supposed to wait at least a week."

"Says who?"

"Those women who wrote _The_ _Rules_."

"Since when do you follow rules?" he asked.

Lorelai grinned. "You know, that's a really good point. I really like you today, Michel."

"I could not be more thrilled," he said sarcastically.

She scooted past behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Gus."

"Right now?"

"Yes," she said, picking up the phone.

"Here?"

She dialed the number. "Hey, you told me to, buddy."

"I hate you."

She grinned at him. Then, after a beat, "Oh, hi, Gus. It's Lorelai."

Michel folded his arms over his chest and glared at her. "Someday, I will grow tired of this and quit."

Lorelai winked and nudged him with her shoulder. He rolled his eyes.

:::

The day went by in a blur. Somehow, she'd managed to focus on her classes, taking neat notes and participating in the discussions. For the first time in weeks, Paris hadn't even looked at her like she belonged in a padded cell. But now standing outside of Miss Patty's Dance Studio with a book clutched in her hand, she wasn't so sure about that herself; a padded cell looked pretty cozy about now. What she'd been so sure of that morning suddenly seemed like complete insanity. Maybe she didn't know what she wanted… maybe she needed more time to think… maybe…

"Rory?"

She whirled around. "Dean."

"Hey," he greeted, leaning down to kiss her. "Sorry I'm late."

"Oh," she stammered. "That's okay. I just, uh, I thought you were inside already."

"I got held up at practice."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said quickly.

"Why did you want to meet here?"

"Um… I guess, well, dance classes are over for the day, and I thought it'd be… private," she explained, shifting nervously.

He smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "But if you wanna go somewhere else, we coul—"

"Let's go inside," he suggested, pulling the door open for her.

She hesitated.

"Rory?"

She gave him a small smile and walked into the studio. He followed her in, closing the door behind them.

Rory started further into the room when she felt Dean's arms around her waist. He brushed a kiss against her neck and smiled. "So, what's going on?"

She moved out of his arms and turned to look at him. He was clearly confused, his forehead crinkled in bewilderment.

"Rory, what's going on?"

"Do you remember the night of the Chilton dance?" she asked abruptly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, of course."

"You were so… perfect," she stated, her voice shaking a little. "You were – are – the perfect boyfriend. You always make me feel safe."

"Good, I'm glad," Dean nodded, still confused.

"And that night… I'll never forget it," she continued.

"Me either," he agreed. "I fell in love with you that night."

Rory's eyes had been on the floor, but as he spoke, they shot to his face. "You did?"

"Yeah," he smiled. He took a step towards her. She took a step back. "Rory?"

A tear slid down her cheek. "I'm sorry."

His eyes searched hers. "What for?"

"Here," she said, holding out the book.

"What? Why are you—"

"Take it," she pleaded.

He reached out and took it from her hand. "Why?"

"I marked a page. I didn't know how else to… I don't know how to do this."

"Do what? What's going on?"

More tears slipped down her cheeks. Dean watched her for a moment.

"Just… can you read it?" she asked. "Please."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He looked at the book. "Isn't this the book we read that night?"

She nodded slightly, brushing her hand across her cheek.

He flipped to the passage she'd marked and, after glancing up at her again, began to read. "Once when I was young and true, Someone left me sad – Broke my brittle heart in two, And that is very bad." He looked at her again.

"Keep reading," she prodded, sniffling.

He turned back to the page. "Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse." He swallowed. "Rory, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just –" Losing her nerve, she looked around the room helplessly.

"Just what, Rory?"

She turned her eyes back to him.

"Rory?"

"I don't think we should be together anymore," she blurted.

"What?"

"It's just—"

"You're breaking up with me?" he asked incredulously.

She wiped her hands over her eyes again then looked at him. Seeing the pain and confusion on his face, she quickly looked away.

"Is this about Jess? Because I thought we figured that out yesterday. I thought everything was fine. Yesterday, you were fine," he insisted.

Rory met his eyes, her cheeks tear-stained.

"Rory, yesterday, everything was fine," he repeated.

A sob escaped her throat.

"I can't believe this. Do you want to be with him? Is that what this is about? You want to be with Jess?"

When she didn't respond, he stared at her, fire in his eyes. "Fine. You know what? FINE!" He threw the book on the floor, and Rory jumped. "But when he makes you miserable, which he _will_, Rory, don't except any sympathy from me."

"Dean…"

"Don't expect anything from me," he spat. Then, he turned and yanked the door open. It slammed shut behind him, and Rory collapsed to her knees, sobs wracking her body.

:::

Eventually, the tears slowed and then stopped. A little dazed, Rory looked around the room and took deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. Standing, she walked to one of the mirrors and looked at her reflection. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and her hair was rumpled. She brushed her hands through it, smoothing it back into place. As she watched herself in the glass, her eyes drifted to the bracelet tied around her wrist. Lowering her hand from her hair, she looked down at the smooth, worn leather; she fingered it gently, tracing it around her wrist. Then, despite the small stabbing pain in her chest, she pulled it loose and freed it from her arm. A single tear fell down her cheek as folded it in half and slid it into her pocket.

She moved across the room and retrieved the book, placing it gently into her backpack. It was almost five. She didn't want to see him, didn't know if she could, not when everything was so fresh. But she'd promised Luke. With a heavy heart, she left the studio and walked across the street to the diner.

When she got inside, Luke smiled, happy to see her. She smiled back, attempting normalcy, and took a seat at a nearby table. While she waited for Jess, she pulled out a textbook and tried to study. But instead she found herself wondering what she should say, what he would say. The last time she'd seen him, they'd kissed. She'd left. Would he be angry? Would he care? The butterflies started again, and she glanced at the clock. 5:10. She looked towards Luke, and he shrugged.

"He promised he'd be here."

She nodded and focused on her book again.

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn't come, and she felt disappointment set in.

Ten more minutes. She ran her fingers over her lips, remembering the kiss. She sighed and looked at the clock. Then, she pulled out the copy of _Howl_ she'd grabbed that morning and started to read.

At six o'clock, the phone rang. Rory didn't notice it until she heard Luke arguing with someone and looked up. He slammed down the receiver and ran his hand over his face. Then, he glanced at her. Her breath hitched in her throat.

With a deep sigh, he walked around the counter and approached her table. She watched him, waiting.

He shook his head in disbelief and said quietly, more quietly than she'd ever heard Luke speak, "I'm sorry, Rory. He isn't coming. That was Liz. He went back to New York."

The air surged out of her in a rush, as if she'd been punched. He was gone.


	20. Miss Gilmore's Guide to Compartmentaliza...

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 20: Miss Gilmore's Guide to Compartmentalization**

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Blah. Blah. Blah._

**_A/N_**_: Thank you to every single person who has ever reviewed this story. I can't believe I'm almost at 500. You all make me very, very, very happy. Double thanks to anyone who reviewed it more than once. And infinite thanks to those of you who've been with me since the beginning. Plus, a special thank you to three wonderful ladies: **Mai**, Art Goddess – I love the banner, and I appreciate your patience and devotion to getting things just right; **Elise** – Thanks for reading the chapter as it progressed. I can't think of a better person to give me feedback than someone who I admire and genuflect before; and **Sarah** – There isn't much to say, except that I'm thankful we're family, and I appreciate that you hide how crazy you undoubtedly must think I am. You indulge my obsessions, and I appreciate it. Thanks all. – Becka_

Standing near the bed on his side of the room, Luke buttoned his flannel shirt and looked around. It hadn't occurred to him until now just how much had changed in less than a year. His father's office now actually resembled a full-fledged apartment instead of a makeshift hole in the wall. There were two beds, two dressers, a table with two chairs. The additional space had provided enough room for Jess's things, and, with time, the place had taken shape. Beds made. CDs and books neatly filed against the wall. Jess's crumpled test still hanging on the refrigerator door. It looked like a home – something Luke had never thought possible before. He'd never even known he wanted it. But now, though most of Jess's things were still there, for the first time, the room felt empty.

With a weary sigh, Luke grabbed his baseball cap from the dresser and headed out the door. It clicked shut behind him, and then, not a second later, it flew open again as he marched back in. With a determined look on his face, he stormed across the room, picked up the phone – base and all, and carried it to the kitchen table. Sitting down, he picked up the receiver and started to dial. Then, remembering the early hour, he set it back down. After another slight pause, he turned to stare at it. Deciding he didn't care about the time, he picked up the receiver again and dialed the number. It took six rings before someone answered.

"Hello?" the woman said, her voice throaty with slumber.

"Liz?"

"Luke!" she said urgently, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

"Calm down. Nothing's wrong."

"What's going on?" a male voice asked in the background.

Luke heard a muffled reply but couldn't make it out, undoubtedly because Liz had covered the mouthpiece with her hand.

A couple seconds later, she was back. "Do you know what time it is?"

Luke glanced at the clock. "6:30."

"In the morning, Luke. 6:30 in the morning. You know I love you, but this better be good."

"Is Jess there?"

"I guess," she said ambivalently. "He was here last night, wasn't he?"

"Let me talk to him."

"What? Why?"

"Just put him on, Liz."

"It's 6:30 in the morning. I'm not gonna wake him up."

"He's used to it."

"Not from me, he isn't."

"Liz, who is it?" the male voice asked again.

"Shh," she chided. "It's my brother."

Luke sighed. "Who is that?"

"It's nobody."

"Jess just got there," he reminded her.

"So?"

"He doesn't need that."

"He's used to it," she replied, throwing his words back at him.

Luke frowned and rested his forehead in his palm. "Let me talk to him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"He needs time to adjust."

"You've got to be kidding."

"We discussed this last night, Luke. He's with me again. I can handle him now. He isn't your responsibility anymore."

"He shouldn't have gone back."

"He's doing much better," Liz pointed out.

"He's been home for less than a day."

"He's been very sweet."

"Sure, he has. Put him on."

There was a long pause. He heard her take a deep breath, a familiar indication that she was about to say something he wasn't going to like. "Luke," she began hesitantly. "We appreciate everything you've done, you know that."

"Liz," he interrupted.

She ignored him and kept talking. "You've been a great uncle and the best big brother a girl could ask for. I'm glad I sent him to you. You really turned him around."

Luke started to interrupt, but she talked louder.

"But he's home now, and he's better, and I can take care of him. I'm his mother."

"Liz…"

"But I'll tell him you called."

"Hold on just a sec—"

"Bye Luke," she finished. An instant later, the phone clicked, breaking the connection.

"Are you sure you don't want to play hooky?"

"Mom," Rory reprimanded.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. We can go shopping and spend way too much money. Eat very unhealthy mall food. Ooh, and ice cream, which, on the plus side, is completely justified, given the current situation. And then we can see a movie. A matinee. When was the last time you and I went to a matinee together?"

Rory shook her head. "I can't skip school."

"Honey, just last night, in the span of an hour, you broke up with your first boyfriend and lost Jess to New York."

"Thanks for the recap," Rory frowned.

"I'm just saying, if anyone deserves a mental health day, it's you."

"I'm not going to be that girl."

"What girl?"

"The girl who skips school because her personal life sucks," Rory scowled.

"Oh, _that_ girl! But I kinda like that girl. She's a great shopping buddy."

"Mom."

Lorelai sighed and waved her hand in the air. "I knew you'd never go for it."

"I'll just compartmentalize," Rory stated, nodding firmly. Seeing her mother's confused look, she continued, "I'll just push last night into a small corner of my mind and ignore it."

"Freud would not approve."

"Well, Freud didn't know what he was talking about. Compartmentalization is great," Rory affirmed. "It will allow me to sit happily in class and take notes without a care in the world."

"It will?"

She nodded. "If I do it right."

Lorelai patted her on the shoulder. "Good luck with that."

"Thank you."

"And on the plus side, tonight is Dad's shindig."

"Oh, right. Grandpa's big debut."

"See, it's perfect. You can just pull out your Dean/Jess compartment and mope all night."

"How is that perfect?"

"Trust me, no matter how grotesque and depressing the contents of that compartment are, they will be more fun than my father's party."

"Be supportive."

"Hey," Lorelai protested. "I am nothing if not supportive. What about last night?"

"I was talking about Grandpa."

"Oh. Well, I'll do my best."

Rory smiled and lifted her backpack onto her shoulder. "Thank you for last night though."

"You're welcome."

"I know you liked Dean, and I just… broke up with him… without warning you."

Lorelai gave her a supportive smile. "It was the right thing to do. It wasn't fair to Dean to…"

Rory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. "I know. I just… I didn't want to hurt him."

"I know."

Rory sighed. "I hurt him."

"I know," Lorelai said softly.

"I think he hates me."

"Give him time."

"And then there's Jess," Rory said, looking lost.

Lorelai hurried over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the door. "Compartmentalize, honey."

Rory cleared her throat and nodded. "Right, right."

"Think of fun things, like Calculus and Physics."

Rory smiled a little. "Very funny."

"Hey, it was your idea. Now, off to school you go," she ordered, shooing her away.

Rory walked down the stairs then stopped abruptly. "Oh, no."  
"What?" Lorelai asked, looking around.

"Dean's car," Rory pointed. "What do I do about Dean's car? Do I keep it?"

"It _was_ a gift."

"But I can't just drive to school in Dean's car," she said anxiously. "How is that fair? Do I give it back?"

Lorelai squinted, considering the options. "I don't know."

"I can't drive Dean's car, and the bus already left. What am I supposed to do?"

"Okay," Lorelai said, making a snap decision. "You, compartmentalize. I'll bring you to school, and we'll figure out what to do with the car later."

"How?"

"I'll ask Miss Manners or something. We'll figure it out, I promise."

Rory nodded. "Okay."

"Okay? Compartmentalizing?"

"I'm trying."

"Good, let's get you to school."

"Please tell me you accidentally made the coffee twice as strong today," Lorelai begged, sliding onto a stool.

"I was just about to make a new pot. I'll see what I can do," Luke promised.

"How is it that you haven't been knighted yet? Sir Lucas Danes. It has a nice ring to it."

"It does, doesn't it?" he answered, smiling at her over his shoulder.

Lorelai grinned. "I'll write the Queen a letter."

"Sounds good."

"So, how are you?" she asked, concerned.

He turned around. "Okay."

"Have you heard from him?"

He shook his head. "Nah."

"But you talked to Liz, right?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"She seems to think it's for the best," he said flatly.

"Really?"

He shrugged. "She thinks she can handle him."

"And what do you think?"

Luke hesitated. "I know you and Jess didn't get along."

"It doesn't matter," Lorelai said sincerely.

Luke nodded. "Stars Hollow was good for him."

"_You_ were good for him."

Luke tightened his jaw. "He'll be okay," he said, turning back to the pot.

Lorelai frowned. Then, surprising herself slightly, she added, "He was good for Stars Hollow."

"What?" Luke asked, turning to look at her.

"He spiced things up," she explained. "In his own way."

"Kinda like when you first showed up."

Lorelai grinned. "Yeah, kind of like that."

"He'll be okay," Luke repeated. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

She took a long sip. "Mmm… that's perfect," she commented, setting it down.

"Bad day? It's only noon."

"Rory broke up with Dean."

Luke's eyes widened. "She did what?"

"Broke up with Dean. Last night."

"Wow. Why?"

"It just wasn't working out."

Luke was speechless.

"I can't believe you didn't know. It's all over town."

"I don't listen to that stuff," he dismissed. "Is she okay?"

"She's compartmentalizing."

"Should I know what that means?"

"She'll be fine."

"Well, if there's anything I can do," Luke offered.

"Just keep the coffee coming. The stronger, the better."

"You got it," he promised.

There was a long silence.

"He _will_ be okay, Luke."

"I know," he answered, not convincing her in the least.

"Rory, there you are!" Lane called, rushing over to her as soon as she stepped off the bus.

"Lane?"

"You would not _believe_ the ridiculous rumors going around this place today! Did you know you broke up with Dean?"

Rory started to open her mouth, but Lane was rushing ahead full steam.

"How ludicrous is that? All day at school, everyone's talking about you and how you broke up with him through Dorothy Parker. Dorothy Parker?!? Gotta give the rumor mill points for creativity! It's probably that new girl, Alison. She seems like the writer type. Anyway, I kept telling everyone it wasn't true. I mean, if my best friend broke up with her first boyfriend, don't you think I'd be one of the first people to know? It's unbelievable! Can you believe that?"

During the course of Lane's rant, Rory's face had fallen and now possessed a very anguished expression.

"What's wrong?" Lane asked. "It isn't a big deal. We can put a stop to it. We _will_ put a stop to it. You just need to release a statement, like celebrities do when false breakup rumors start. 'Dean and I are very much together. We don't know how these vicious rumors started, but we plan to sue the tabloids for all they're worth,' et cetera, et cetera."

"It's true," Rory said quietly.

"You're suing the tabloids?" Lane asked, confused.

"I broke up with Dean."

"You broke up with Dean?"

Rory nodded.

"Oh," Lane answered. She paused, processing the information. "How did I not know this?"

"There wasn't time," Rory explained. "I broke up with him, and then Jess left, and…"

"That one's true too?" Lane interrupted.

Rory nodded.

"Wow, okay. My world just suddenly became a very different place."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. I understand. It's just… wow! You broke up with Dean?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"It just – I just – I realized that we don't have a lot in common."

Lane gave her a skeptical look. "You _just_ realized that?"

Rory hesitated, wanting to tell her friend the truth. Except, at this point, she wasn't exactly sure what the truth was. That she liked Jess? That they had more in common? That they'd kissed and it'd felt different than kissing Dean? Better? She met Lane's eyes. "I miss Jess," she said simply, not sure if it was an explanation but at least it was the truth.

Lane smiled, understanding. "I know. I mean, I suspected. Is he really gone?"

Rory sighed. "It looks that way."

"I'm sorry."

"What's everyone saying about him?" Rory asked, hoping for a clue.

"Not much. Just that he left. Mysterious 'til the end; I admire that about him."

Rory smiled a little.

"So you and Dean? That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"And the Dorothy Parker thing?"

"Also true."

"Very creative," Lane complimented.

"Is he okay?"

"He seemed okay to me. Although, in retrospect, it probably didn't help that I kept patting him on the shoulder and saying, 'Don't worry, big guy! We'll get this all straightened out.'"

Rory grimaced.

"Yeah," Lane agreed. "So, how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"You're compartmentalizing, aren't you?"

"It's out of control," Rory admitted. "I need more compartments."

"Sorry, I used all of mine during the Henry mess. I have excellent ears though. We could talk; deal with this in an open, healthy way."

Rory sighed. "I'm not ready."

"Fair enough," Lane nodded, entwining her arm with Rory's. "We'll just have to find a new compartment then. Hey, how about this weather we having?"

Rory looked down at Lane and smiled. "Slightly humid," she commented as they strolled across town.

Setting his book on the stainless steel platform, Jess stared at the payphone. It was smudged with fingerprints, each one representing a person who had reached out and touched someone. He paused, counting them, wasting time. He'd done the exact same thing about ten times in the last day, in denial that most of the prints now belonged to him.

Around the booth, New York bustled. The sound of the city seemed louder to him now; unused to it, his ears rang with the din of blaring horns and hurried chatter. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. The dial tone droned, blocking out everything else. He reached out to dial the number he had memorized, even though he'd called it only once. He pressed three keys before changing his mind and hanging up, an improvement over the two keys he'd reached several hours ago. Stuffing the book into his pocket, he looked around and quickly walked away.

As soon as he walked through the door, his mother's voice assaulted him.

"Jess, there you are," she exclaimed, hurrying over. She pulled him into an awkward hug, an annoying habit she had apparently developed again while he was away. He stiffened in her arms, not moving. She pulled away. "You know, when you were younger, you used to like it when I hugged you."

He looked at her blankly.

"You did," she repeated, ruffling his hair.

He moved to the side and walked past her into the living room. Immediately, his eyes fell on the unfamiliar, middle-aged man who was sprawled on the couch. Not particularly surprised, he turned back around and started to leave.

"Hey, hey, Jess," Liz said, gently grabbing his arm to stop him. "Wait a minute. I didn't get a chance to introduce you two last night."

"It's fine," Jess answered, his voice tight.

"Now, c'mon, if you're living here again, you two are gonna have to get to know each other."

She turned him around and guided him back into the living room. The man was still laying on the couch in the exact same position, a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other.

Jess's mouth set into a straight line.

"Rodney?" Liz called. The man turned his head slightly to look at her. "This is my son, Jess," she introduced.

"Hey," Rodney greeted.

"Jess, this is Rod."

Jess looked at her. "You call him Rod?"

"Yeah? Why?"

He shook his head, a small smirk forming. "Just seems appropriate, that's all."

Liz frowned. "Be nice, would you? Go shake his hand."

"No, thanks."

"Jess," she reprimanded. "Go shake his hand."

"It's okay, Lizzie," Rod interrupted. "My hands are kinda full." He held up the remote and beer can to prove his point.

Jess shook his head, amused. "Life's essentials, right, Rod?"

"That's right!" he agreed, oblivious to Jess's mocking tone.

"Great," Jess remarked. He turned to his mother again. "Can I go now?"

She released her hold. "Yeah, sure."

Without another word, he headed for the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she called after him. "Luke called this morning. He wanted to tal—"

The door slammed shut, cutting her off. She glanced at Rod, then walked over and plopped down on top of him. "See, he's sweet, huh?"

Rodney shrugged and lifted the can to his lips, finishing it off. Then, wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his.

Before she could give herself time to reconsider and flee, Rory reached out and rang the doorbell. As she waited, she nervously looked around at the yard. It all looked the same. Everything was the same, except she suddenly felt out of place.

The door opened, and she jerked her head in its direction.

"Oh, hi, Rory," the young girl said, not even attempting to hide her disappointment.

"Hi Clara. How are you?"

"Fine," Clara replied tersely.

"Is Dean around?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Can you check?"

"I guess," Clara said, closing the door in Rory's face.

Rory sighed and waited. After a couple of minutes, the door opened again.

"He's busy."

"Oh."

"He said not to bother coming back later."

"Oh," Rory repeated again, feeling sick.

"Is that all?" Clara asked.

"Um, actually," Rory said quietly, fumbling in her pockets. "Can you give him something for me?"

Clara shrugged again. "I guess."

Rory pulled the key from her pocket and held it out to Dean's sister.

"What is it?"

"It's his key," Rory explained, looking down at it.

"To what?"

Rory's hand shook a little as she held it out. "His car."

"You mean, _your_ car?"

"It's his car now," Rory answered.

Clara reached out and took the key.

"Thanks," Rory mumbled, turning to go.

"Why'd you break up with him?" Clara blurted.

Rory turned back around. "What?"

"We liked you. We _all_ liked you."

"I know," Rory admitted, her voice catching in her throat.

"I thought you liked him."

"I did. I _do_."

"Then why'd you break up with him?"

Rory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, searching for an explanation. "I don't know," she finally answered.

Clara stared at her. "Oh."

Rory looked up, meeting the younger girl's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't come back," Clara stated before going into the house and closing the door.

For a long moment, Rory just stared at the wall of wood in front of her. Then, blinking back tears, she turned and hurried down the sidewalk. She was almost to the corner when someone called out her name.

"Rory! Rory, wait!"

Wiping her hands over her face, she turned and waited. She didn't look up when he reached her.

"I don't want this," Dean said firmly, holding out the key.

"It's yours. I can't keep it."

"You're keeping it."

Rory didn't move. Dean trailed his eyes over her face; he could tell she'd been crying. Hesitantly, he reached out and lifted her hand from her side. Turning it over, he placed the key onto her palm and closed her fingers around it. "You're keeping it," he repeated.

"Why?" she choked.

"Because you need it to get to Chilton. School's important to you. That's why I gave it to you in the first place."

Rory shook her head and tried to hand it back. "I can't keep it. It isn't fair."

"You're right; it isn't," Dean agreed.

Rory looked up and met his eyes.

"But I want you to have it," he finished.

Rory didn't know what to say.

"At least until you get something else."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "Dean, I am so sor—"

"Don't," Dean interrupted. "This isn't supposed to mean anything. I gave you the car; it's yours. I never wanted it back."

"Okay."

He looked at her for another second. Then, he cleared his throat and nodded. "I'll see you around," he said flatly.

She opened her mouth to reply, but he was already halfway up the sidewalk.

"How'd it go?" Lorelai asked, looking up at her daughter as she walked in the door.

Rory flopped onto the couch beside her.

"Hmm… well, either you decided to go for the smudged mascara runway look for my father's party tonight, or it didn't go very well," she observed. She reached out and began wiping away the black smears under Rory's eyes. "What happened?"

Rory held up the key.

"You forgot to give him the key?"

"He wouldn't take it."

"The key?"

"Or the car."

"Oh."

"He said he gave it to me so I could get to Chilton, and he wanted me to keep it."

Lorelai gave her a small smile. "Well, Dean was always a very nice guy."

"I shouldn't have broken up with him," Rory stated.

Wiping away the last of the mascara, Lorelai pulled back and looked at her. "Are you still in love with Dean?" she asked seriously.

"I don't know. Maybe I never knew."

Lorelai nodded. "Okay, well, when you see him, how do you feel?"

Rory gestured uncertainly. "Safe. Comfortable."

"Those are nice things to feel."

"I know," Rory agreed.

Lorelai took a deep breath, fighting down her own feelings. "And what about Jess? When you see him, how do you feel?"

Rory sighed and pretended to be fascinated with the seam of her dress. "Off-balance, I guess."

"And?"

"Excited. Happy. Infuriated, sometimes."

Lorelai smiled a little and ran her fingers along a strand of Rory's hair. "Call me crazy, but I think you did the right thing."

"Clara hates me."

"She loves her big brother."

"Who also hates me."

"Dean doesn't hate you," Lorelai promised.

"You don't know that."

"I know he gave you a car. Twice. I'm pretty sure he doesn't hate you."

"He doesn't like me."

"Maybe not right now, but I have a feeling he will someday."

Rory sighed and ran her hands over her face. "We have to go to grandpa's party."

Lorelai looked at her watch and nodded. "I think there's just enough time to fix your makeup and make a very important stop."

"Where?"

"Luke's. I may not be able to solve everything, but I will not let you starve," Lorelai promised, helping her daughter to her feet.

"Mmm, God bless Luke," Rory crooned, drinking the last of her coffee as they pulled into the parking lot.

Shifting into park, Lorelai turned off the engine and looked at her daughter. "Okay, one thing before we go in there."

"What?" Rory asked.

"There is a possibility – a very slight, small, practically nonexistent possibility – that my mother might ask us if we're over our flu."

"What? We didn't have the flu."

"Yes, you know that, and I know that, but Emily doesn't know that."

"Why does Grandma think we have the flu?"

"Uh, well, do you remember last Friday?"

"Yes, it's still pretty clear."

"Remember how there was no Friday night dinner?"

"Grandma and Grandpa were out of town," Rory confirmed.

"If by 'out of town,' you mean 'home in Hartford, sipping glasses of wine by a toasty

fire,' then, yes, they were out of town."

"Mom! They weren't out of town?"

"Not exactly."

"We skipped Friday night dinner?"

"We were sick," Lorelai clarified.

"Unbelievable."

"Hey, you were tutoring Jess, and I was getting very important cooking lessons. Don't you want a real Mommy who can cook?"

"I tutored Jess on Thursday _not_ Friday," Rory corrected.

"Eh, technicalities," Lorelai dismissed.

"I can't believe you lied to me about Friday night dinner."

"You never would've agreed to it."

"You could've done the cooking lessons another night," Rory pointed out.

"Hey, Luke is a very busy man. I was lucky he was even available that Friday."

"Mom…"

"Okay, so I forgot about Friday night dinner until it was too late."

"Oh, please," Rory groaned.

"I needed a break, Rory. They'll never know the difference."

"So now I have to lie to them?"

"I can do _all_ of the lying."

Rory sighed and undid her seatbelt. "I'm never going to trust you again, you know. If they go out of town, I expect a written itinerary."

"I'll start drafting it as soon as we get home," Lorelai teased.

Rory gave her a look and got out of the car. "The flu?" she asked.

"Hey, it was going around. Bunny Carlington-Munchausen had it. Mom bought it hook, line, and sinker. It practically wrote itself."

"We're staying an extra half hour tonight," Rory ordered.

"What? No way!"

"You do the crime, you pay the time," Rory reprimanded. "Let's go."

"Okay, then what's the punishment for your indiscretions with Magnet Lips Mariano?"

Seeing Rory's less-than-amused expression, Lorelai waved her hand. "Fine, fine. Thirty extra minutes. That's it!"

"Oh, okay," Lorelai said, taking several deep breaths. "The claustrophobia is beginning to subside. I feel air. Cool air. Nice, refreshing, cool air. And if I'm not mistaken, this nice, refreshing, cool air has not been contaminated with the exhalations of a thousand insurance men."

Rory wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

"C'mon, I know you're with me. We were resembling sardines in there."

"It was a little crowded," Rory agreed. "But that's good. It means Grandpa's new business is going to do just fine."

Lorelai looked at her watch. "An hour and a half! Look at this," she said, pointing at the time. "You made me stay an hour and a half longer than planned. We agreed on thirty minutes."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Boy, have I ever! I am the mother. _You_ are the child."

Rory shook her head. "Nope, wrong lesson. Should we go back in?" she asked, gesturing towards the door.

"No! God, no! Uncle!"

Rory grinned proudly and climbed into the Jeep. "I can't believe there's no more Margie," she commented sadly.

"I can't believe my mother picked the new secretary. It's going to be the maid merry-go-round all over again."

"Karen seems very nice."

"Exactly! Buh-bye, Karen! Nice knowin' ya."

"Aw, c'mon, Karen has potential," Rory argued.

"I give her a week."

"Wow, you're feeling optimistic today."

"My mother still thinks we had the flu; I have a feeling I'm entering a lucky streak."

"You do know that the flu doesn't generally cause a limp, right?"

"So I played it up a little," Lorelai shrugged. "She seemed to buy it."

Rory smiled. "By the end there, Grandma was willing to buy anything."

"I know!" Lorelai grinned. "I guess we shouldn't have spiked the punch."

"We? I had nothing to do with that."

"That's not the story I'm telling."

"Oh, great," Rory moped, settling in as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Just develop a limp," Lorelai suggested. "She'll forgive you."

"It was a nice party. Grandpa seemed happy."

"He did, didn't he?" Lorelai agreed, smiling.

They drove for a while in silence. Eventually, Rory turned to look out the side window, watching the scenery go by.

Lorelai glanced over and saw her brush her hand across her cheek. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, taking peeks at her as she drove.

Rory shrugged and shook her head.

Lorelai frowned and reached out, taking Rory's hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "Those compartments never seem to hold, do they?"

Rory shook her head and sniffled.

Lorelai held her hand, rubbing her thumb across it soothingly for the rest of the way home.

When they pulled into the driveway, Rory looked up at the house then turned to her mom.

"I'm gonna go for a walk."

"Are you sure?" Lorelai asked. "It's awfully late."

Rory nodded. "I won't be gone long."

"Okay."

With a small smile, Rory unbuckled her belt and climbed out of the car. Lorelai watched as her daughter headed down the sidewalk and around the corner, then she got out of the car and went inside.

The night air was definitely cooler now. Rory wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her jacket tight. She followed a familiar route and soon found herself walking down the path towards the bridge.

As she walked across it, her feet making the familiar hollow thumps against the wood, she noted how strange it felt not to see Jess there. For the past few months, he'd been as much of a fixture as the bridge itself. Reaching the middle, she sat down and let her legs hang over the water. She watched the wavering image of her shoe drift back and forth beneath her, its outline breaking with each gentle lap.

After a while, she let her eyes drift out across the small expanse of water. It was a cloudy night, and the moon was mostly hidden. The lake looked black and dark. Everything looked black and dark, she noted, glancing around.

She was just about to turn her gaze back to the water when her eyes fell on something white off to her left. It was clearly visible, a stark contrast to the darkness. She squinted, trying to make it out, but it was too small. Too curious to ignore it, she stood up and walked across the bridge. As she got closer, she could tell that it was paper, but it was only when she was standing right above it that she realized what it was.

Her breath caught, and she knelt down, picking it up quickly. As she stood up again, she brushed away the dirt that clung to its surface. The paper was stiff and crisp, a result of being wet one second and abruptly sun-baked the next. She gently reshaped it with her fingers. It was slightly worse for wear – its little eyes and whiskers long washed away, one of its feet lost somewhere in the lake, but it was still perfect.

Tearing her eyes away from it, Rory looked around, almost expecting him to be nearby to share in her discovery. But he wasn't.

She looked back down at the little rabbit. Her heart started to pound, registering her sudden decision an instant before she made it. Keeping a tight grip on the tiny rabbit, she hurried across the bridge towards home.

As soon as she walked through the door, Rory looked around for her mother.

"Marco," she called breathlessly.

"Polo," Lorelai yelled from the kitchen.

Rory moved quickly in its direction.

Lorelai was standing at the counter, scooping ice cream into two bowls. "I figured you'd be home about now," she said, licking a drip off her finger. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Rory's flushed cheeks. She turned all of the way around and leaned on the counter, waiting.

Meeting her mother's eyes, Rory took a deep breath. Then, in a steady voice, she said firmly, "I'm going to New York."


	21. New York, New York

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 21: ****New York****, ****New York******

**_Disclaimer: _**_In a perfect world, someday I'll be a famous television writer, admired and adored by hundreds upon hundreds of fanfic authors. Right now, I'm nobody. Look to Amy Sherman-Palladino if you want cool._

**_A/N_**_: This chapter scared the holy bejeezus out of me. Honestly. And I never would've gotten through it without the assistance of two amazing people. **Jewls,** any iota of __New York__ accuracy found in this chapter is owed entirely to you. Thanks for putting up with my emails and incessant questions. **Elise**, you are now hereby crowned The Queen of Block-Breaking. Yes, I know it's not a pretty name, but trust me, it's one to be admired. Thanks for helping me with each painstaking moment of that last scene. And I do mean pain… staking. And to all the rest of y'all, I like reviews. (nudge) -Becka_

"Okay, maps?" Lorelai asked, looking at her daughter seriously.

Rory reached into her bag and pulled out a map. "Check."

"Someone to interpret the maps?"

Rory smiled. "I have an excellent sense of direction."

"You have my genes, honey. I get lost in the mall."

"I'll be fine," Rory assured her.

"Money?"

"Check."

"Not too much, not too little? There are no muggings allowed."

"The perfect amount," Rory said confidently. "Enough for the bus, plus a little extra, just in case."

"Wait," Lorelai interrupted. "How do you even know where you're going?"

Rory waved the map in the air again.

"No, an address. Do we know where he lives?"

Rory pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket. "He told Paris once that he lived in East Village. There was only one E. Danes listed online."

"How do you know that's Liz?"

Rory glanced down at it. "Well, I'm not 100% sure, but…"

"Rory…"

"The odds are in my favor."

"We don't even know her last name is Danes anymore."

"There were no Marianos."

"Okay, but what about Jones or Smith or Schwarzenegger?"

"Schwarzenegger?" Rory asked skeptically.

"Hey, it could be anything."

"Well, if this isn't the right address, I'll just wander the streets yelling 'Jess' until I find him."

"Very funny."

"It works in the movies," Rory reminded her.

"I dislike this plan more and more by the second."

"Which is amazing, considering how much you hated it last night," Rory pointed out.

"Okay, we'll just ask Luke for the address."

"No," Rory said quickly.

Lorelai's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"I just… don't want him to know."

"That's crazy. Luke has the address. Therefore, it makes sense to ask Luke."

"_This_ is Jess's address," Rory said firmly, holding up the small slip of paper.

"You're dead set on yelling through the streets, aren't you?"

"It's really the only reason I'm going," Rory admitted.

Lorelai frowned. "Ok, so, East Village? How do you plan to get there once the bus drops you off?"

"What?"

"The bus doesn't do requests," Lorelai reminded her.

"Well," Rory said, thinking. "I guess I'll just walk."

"From the Port Authority to East Village?"

Rory nodded. "Yes."

"Have you _looked_ at that map?" Lorelai asked, gesturing at it.

"I took a gander," Rory stated.

"A gander?" Lorelai repeated. "Okay, let me help you out. It's gonna be a long walk."

"How long?"

"Very long."

Rory's face fell. "So what do I do?"

"You'll probably have to take the subway."

"Oh," Rory accepted, frowning.

"Do you have enough money for the subway?"

"I guess."

"You're not helping me love this plan, Rory."

She looked up. "Money. Subway. It's all covered," she assured her.

"All right," Lorelai accepted hesitantly. "Do you have your cell phone?"

"Yes, and it's all charged."

"And you have my number?"

Rory's lips turned up slightly. "I'm going to miss the bus."

"Fine, just one more thing."

"What?"

"Ground rules."

"Oh boy," Rory mumbled.

"No talking to strangers."

"I won't."

"No taking candy from strangers."

"What if it's a famous stranger?" Rory teased.

"Ah, famous strangers are not strangers. Take the candy and convince them to adopt you."

"I'll do my best," Rory nodded. "Next."

"No walking down dark alleyways."

"It's a bright, sunny day," Rory said, pointing at the window.

"Are we in agreement?" Lorelai asked stubbornly.

"No dark alleyways. Check."

"No pimping, prostituting, or littering."

Rory grinned. "I'm going now," she said, heading towards the door.

Lorelai trailed after her. "No attending _Cats_. I'll have to disown you."

Rory pulled on her jacket.

"Uh… what else?" Lorelai muttered, thinking. "No drug dealing. Rudy doesn't allow that anymore."

"There goes Plan B."

"No bungee-jumping, no skydiving, and no walking through revolving doors until you make yourself sick."

"The Hilton wouldn't let me back in anyway."

"No staring up at the tall buildings like a tourist; you'll hurt your neck, and uh… okay, I think that's everything. Oh no, wait," she added. "No joining a gang of street-smart, hip-hopping break-dancers fighting for their chance at fame. We always promised to do that together."

"I promise."

"All right," Lorelai accepted. "I've said my piece."

Rory smiled and started out the door.

"Rory," Lorelai called.

She turned back around.

"If anything happens, you call me."

"I will."

"I mean it, no keeping David Bowie and the Hershey bars for yourself."

"I'll be back tonight."

Lorelai forced a smile, and Rory headed down the sidewalk.

When she was out of sight, Lorelai walked back into the house and shut the door. Leaning her back against it, she took a deep breath. Then, steeling herself, she headed upstairs to get ready for work.

As the bus pulled into its terminal, Rory glanced at her watch. The ride had been about two and a half hours, but it had seemed like an eternity. She had hoped to get in some quality reading as finals were fast approaching, but after about ten miles, she'd given up. Her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Jess and their inevitable conversation should she find him. Yesterday, at the bridge, coming to New York had seemed like the perfect solution, but now she was in New York, and she had no idea what she was doing, where she was going, or what on earth she was going to say once she got there. She watched as the passengers one row ahead of her stood and headed down the aisle. Then, with an uncertain sigh, she joined them.

As soon as she stepped off the bus, she was greeted with the hustle and bustle of the Port Authority. All around her, people were greeting each other and chatting. Wheeled suitcases glided along the ground, and she dodged to get out of the way. A little disoriented, she found an empty bench and sat down. Pulling her map from her backpack, she glanced at the street names and tried to formulate a plan. She quickly realized that Lorelai hadn't been joking about the walk; it'd take forever. The subway, it is, she decided, trying to fight off a sudden case of nerves. How, exactly, did one track down a subway?

She raised her head and glanced around, searching for a clue. It didn't take long before she located a promising sign emblazoned with an arrow and the word 'subway'. Deciding this was going to be much easier than she'd thought, she stood and headed in the suggested direction. Each sign led to another sign, all of them pointing towards the subway. She followed along for a while but soon felt like she was walking in circles. Ten minutes later, she couldn't even remember how many corners she'd turned or where she'd started in the first place. Frowning, she looked around. She must be missing something. Looking to her left, she spotted a door. Logic told her that it must be the subway so, without a second thought, she headed through it.

She squinted immediately, the hot sun burning her eyes after spending so much time indoors. Frustrated, she looked around. No subway. Her shoulders slumped as she realized she'd come all of this way and was likely going to spend the whole day searching for the stupid subway. She looked around helplessly then glanced towards the street. Slowly, a smile spread across her face as she saw the long line of taxis parked along the curb. Glaring over her shoulder at the bus station behind her, she hurried towards the nearest cab.

"Here you go, miss," the cabbie called over his shoulder.

Handing over the fare, Rory thanked him and climbed out of the cab. In an instant, the driver was gone, off in search of a new rider. As he turned the corner, Rory suddenly wished she'd asked Luke for the address. If this wasn't it, she had no clue what to do next.

She scanned the street, taking in her surroundings. It looked typical enough, nothing stood out as particularly interesting. It was quiet, set off from the businesses and stores of the East Village proper. She spotted a small café at the far corner of the street with a lone table outside its door. No one was sitting at it. The rest of the block was lined with brownstones, each one almost indistinguishable from the next. When she'd imagined what kind of street Jess lived on, she hadn't pictured this, and yet there was something about it that seemed exactly right.

Smiling a little, she turned her eyes to his building. It was four stories, made of stone despite being the color of dingy, maroon brick. Three steps led the way to the door, which was currently propped open by a heavy, discarded flower pot. Along the façade of the building, each floor was differentiated by its line of small windows. Rory could tell from the way they were spaced that the apartments were small.

Biting her lip, she glanced up and down the street again. Then, she slowly approached the building and ascended the stairs. Inside the entryway, another door led into the stairwell. Rory spotted a buzzer near the mailboxes and pulled the sheet of paper from her pocket to confirm the apartment number. She'd been repeating it over and over in her head on the ride from Port Authority, but checking it again was an easy delay tactic. She slipped the sheet back into her pocket and pressed the numbers. Nothing happened. It didn't make a sound. She punched them in again and, like the first time, got no response. 'Great,' she mumbled under her breath. Given how little traffic she'd seen coming in and out of the building – more explicitly, none – it could be awhile before someone would appear to let her in. Repositioning her bag on her shoulder, she sighed and yanked on the door handle. When it flew open, she lost her balance slightly. Running her fingers over the edge of the door, she discovered the lock was broken. She peered around nervously, feeling like she was committing a crime by entering without permission. But no one was around to see her, so she hurried through and started up the stairwell.

It smelled like smoke. Strong smoke that burnt her throat and made her want to cough. Small cigarette butts were strewn along the edges where the carpet met the wall, and on the second floor landing, she eyed a piece of gum that had hardened permanently into the fibers. She wrinkled her nose and continued up. When she reached the third floor, she pulled open the heavy door and stepped into the hallway. The smoky smell was considerably fainter here, and she inhaled deeply, not realizing that she'd been holding her breath on the way up. She wandered down the hallway, reading the numbers on the doors. When she reached 317, she faltered slightly, then, cautiously, she knocked.

"Just a second," a female voice called.

A moment later, the woman spoke again, but this time, she was standing right on the other side. "Can I help you?" she asked without opening the door. Rory glanced up at the peephole but couldn't see anything.

"Um… I might have the wrong apartment," she said awkwardly. "I'm looking for Jess Mariano."

Immediately, she heard the sound of two locks being flipped and turned. Then, the door opened, and she was face-to-face with the woman.

"You're a friend of my Jess?" Liz asked, looking Rory over with a smile on her face.

"From Stars Hollow," Rory explained.

Liz's smile widened, and Rory instantly felt more comfortable. "I should've guessed. Do you have a name?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Rory stammered, shaking her head in embarrassment. "Rory Gilmore."

Liz extended her hand. "I'm Liz Danes, Jess's mom. He doesn't owe you money, does he?" she teased.

Rory grinned and shook her hand. "No."

"In that case, welcome. He isn't here, but you can come in and wait if you want," Liz offered, widening the door.

With a shy smile, Rory stepped inside.

As soon as she entered, she tried to take in as much as possible. She had been right; the apartment was small – very small – but also very homey. Immediately to her left was the kitchen, barely more than a hole in the wall. It was standard and offered few clues, except for the small plant at one corner of the counter and the hundred or so magnets along the surface of the refrigerator. She didn't have time to examine them, but she made a mental note to walk by later and take a look.

Instead, she turned her eyes to the living room, which lay to her right. She wandered the rest of the way into it as Liz flipped the locks back into place. There was a large couch on one wall, a floral print that Rory knew immediately Jess must hate. Though the cushions looked threadbare and worn, the large throw pillows made up for any lack of comfort. They were made of plush velour in colors to match the print, big and puffy. Her mother would die for those pillows, Rory observed with a smile.

The room was so small that the furniture took up the vast majority of floor space. Next to the couch was a mismatched blue recliner and in front was a coffee table, covered by a book, the television remote, and two beer bottles. Nestled in the far corner was the TV stand, and on the opposite wall was a small bookcase, filled with knick-knacks and a trio of framed pictures. Her heart fluttering, Rory walked over and crouched down to look at them. Her face lit up as she spotted one of a much-younger Luke, looking very uncomfortable as he cradled a small, olive-skinned baby in his arms.

Liz walked over to stand beside her, and Rory glanced up. "Is that Jess?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"The one and only, and that's my brother Luke, but I suppose you know that."

"My mom and I have a coffee addiction," Rory replied.

"Then, you _definitely_ know that," Liz smiled.

Rory looked at the picture again.

"He was a sweet baby," Liz commented.

Rory brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled again. "That doesn't surprise me," she said absently before turning her eyes to another picture. In this one, Jess was a toddler, teetering on unsteady legs and holding Liz's hand. Even if Rory hadn't recognized him on sight, the mop of dark brown hair would've given him away.

The third picture must have been fairly recent. Jess looked as he did now. He was sitting at a picnic table, glaring down at a book with a scowl on his face. Rory laughed a little.

"I keep that one because he hates it so much," Liz remarked. "And because I think it captures him quite nicely."

"It does," Rory agreed, standing up again. Then, she suddenly blushed at her behavior. "I'm sorry for just barging in," she began, trying to explain.

Liz shook her head. "Jess doesn't make many friends. I'm kinda curious myself."

"Oh, we aren't really friends… exactly," Rory replied. "I mean, we are, but…"

"Did he do something?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"No," Rory said quickly. "He just… didn't say goodbye." She blushed again.

Liz nodded, understanding. "Ah."

"He probably doesn't even want me here," Rory said, looking around helplessly. "I should go."

"Or you could stay," Liz suggested. "Sometimes he doesn't know what he wants."

Rory hesitated.

"I'm dying to tell some of his embarrassing kid stories, and my brother once taught me how to make a mean pot of coffee."

Rory shifted, knowing she should go but not really wanting to.

A second later, Liz took the decision out of her hands. "You're staying. Sit. I'll go make the coffee. Luke'll never forgive me if I scare you away."

Rory smiled and slid the backpack off her shoulder. "Okay."

"What time is it?" Lorelai asked.

"Five minutes later than when you asked five minutes ago," Michel replied irritably. "And ten minutes later than the time before that."

"Which would make it?"

Michel glared at her. "One-fifteen."

"Right, of course," Lorelai nodded, looking back down at her papers.

Five minutes later, she lifted her head to ask again. Spotting her gesture, Michel walked around the desk and straight into the kitchen. A second later, he emerged, pushing Sookie in front of him. "Make it stop," he demanded, pointing at Lorelai.

"What?" Sookie asked.

"Her voice is like the incessant buzzing of a bee. She forgot her watch. I cannot take it. Buy her a watch. Buy her several. Please. I am begging."

Sookie chuckled and looked at her friend. "It hasn't been that long. Rory's fine."

"She hasn't called. She's lying in a subway somewhere, unconscious and bleeding, while panhandlers and police officers step over her," Lorelai disagreed.

"You know that's not true, sweetie. The panhandlers would stop."

"Yes, to rob her," Lorelai clarified.

Shaking her head, Sookie shuffled around the desk and wrapped her arm around Lorelai's shoulders. "C'mon. Into the kitchen."

"What if she calls the desk?" Lorelai asked, pointing at the phone.

"Michel is here."

"Yes, I am here," he confirmed. "Go away."

"C'mon, honey. You need food."

"Fine," Lorelai said, glaring at Michel as she let Sookie lead her away.

"Do not forget the watch," he called after them.

"Can it, Michel!" Sookie ordered before turning her attention back to Lorelai.

They walked into the kitchen, and Sookie sat her on a stool before moving to fix her a plate of food.

"I'm losing my mind, Sookie."

"Then call her."

"I can't call her," Lorelai protested. "Then I'm the psycho mom who can't let her daughter out of her sight without freaking out."

"Okay, but that's kinda what you are right now."

"No, right now, I am the cool mom who let her teenage daughter trek to a city she doesn't know to find a boy who doesn't want to be found and who, quite frankly, I don't want to be found."

"My mistake," Sookie teased.

"I just need a distraction. Juggle or something."

"You want _me_ to juggle?"

"Okay, good point. Forget it."

"Eat," Sookie ordered, handing her the plate.

"What time is it?" she asked, lifting the fork to her mouth.

Sookie glanced at her watch. "One-twenty."

"Ah, great," Lorelai nodded.

"What?"

"Oh, I just have Rory's whole trip plotted out in my mind, and what happens at one-twenty is a doozy."

"What happens at one-twenty?" Sookie asked, curious.

"Well, let's see, about two minutes ago, Rory picked herself up from the concrete…"

"Where she was lying while bleeding from the head," Sookie supplied.

"Already been established," Lorelai pointed out. "She's picked herself up, dusted herself off, and she's now meeting the woman who raised Jess."

"She accomplishes a lot in five minutes."

"You're telling me. What time is it?"

"One-twenty-one."

"See, and now Jess's mom is turning Rory into a scowling teenage misfit, just like her son."

Sookie giggled. "I doubt that."

"I wouldn't put it past her."

"You've never met her."

"I've met Jess."

"She's Luke's sister. How bad could she be?"

"She's the black sheep," Lorelai stated.

"So are you."

"I'm the only sheep. It's different."

"Oh, right," Sookie cooed.

"This is very stressful. Distract me," Lorelai demanded before taking another bite.

"Ooh, what about your date tonight?" Sookie cheered.

Lorelai's eyes widened. "My date? Oh, wow, I think I forgot about that."

"You forgot about your date with the hottie restaurateur?" Sookie teased, wiggling her hips.

"I totally did! Wow! I can't believe that."

"You've had a lot on your mind."

"But to forget a date?" Lorelai shook her head. "I haven't even thought about what to wear… or which coy gesture to employ… or what food on the menu is just expensive enough to make it worth my while and yet cheap enough so I don't look like a gold digger."

Sookie shook her head and giggled. "I think we've found our distraction."

"What time is it?"

Sookie frowned. "You're kidding, right?"

"I have a date tonight. I need to know how much time I have."

"One twenty-five," Sookie said, glancing at her watch.

"Great. And now Jess has arrived."

"He has?"

"Yeah, this is when the fun starts. Time's ticking by, and oh, wait, wait… Jess is being a jerk. I'd been waiting for that."

"This isn't going to stop, is it?"

"Probably not," Lorelai stated.

Without another word, Sookie took off her watch and handed it to Lorelai. "Go crazy."

"And then he tells the kid that lightning is a tracking device," Liz said excitedly. "So the monsters can find you, but you can't find them. Little Wally was darting and ducking his way through thunderstorms for years after that."

Rory laughed.

"I knew right then and there that I had to watch out for my Jesse. He doesn't believe in using that creative mind for good instead of evil."

Rory shook her head and smiled, picturing a toddling Jess as he weaved tales of torment for the other neighborhood kids.

"Wally's never quite gotten over it either," Liz said, shaking her head sadly while grinning from ear-to-ear at the same time. She stood up and gathered their plates, a result of her insistence that Rory join her for lunch.

"He painted a chalk outline on the sidewalk outside Doose's," Rory stated.

Liz's eyes widened. "He didn't?"

"He did."

"Taylor must've loved that," Liz remarked, putting the dishes in the sink.

"It shut the store down for the entire day."

"And yet my boy is still alive and well."

"They couldn't prove he did it."

Liz shook her head and grinned proudly. "They never can."

Rory smiled and watched as Jess's mom ran water over the dishes. She wasn't at all what she'd expected. At first, Rory hadn't seen much of a resemblance, but as they'd talked, she'd picked up on mannerisms mother and son shared – little hints of their similarities.

Liz turned off the water and glanced at Rory. "I like you," she smiled.

Rory was slightly surprised but smiled back. "I'm glad."

Liz dried her hands on a towel and made her way back over to the couch. "You're different than Jess's other friends. How'd that happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"How'd he find someone on the up-and-up?"

Rory shrugged. "There isn't much else in Stars Hollow."

"I suppose that's true," Liz agreed. "I'm starting to wish he'd stayed."

Rory smiled sadly. "Me too."

Liz studied her for a moment, but Rory quickly put on a brave face.

"Ooh," Liz exclaimed. "Do you want to see the photo album? It's in my room."

Rory's eyes lit up. "I'd love to."

"All right, let me go get it," Liz said, standing up.

Rory stood too. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom?"

"Of course not. It's the one in the middle," she said, pointing to three doorways across the apartment from the main door.

Rory nodded and headed in its direction.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom and glanced quickly at the other two doorways. The one on the right side was hidden by strands of beads. Rory guessed it was Liz's room, and her suspicion was confirmed a second later when Liz emerged, the album in hand. Rory smiled, and then, unable to help herself, she glanced towards the other room. Jess's room.

"I guess I didn't give you a proper tour, did I?" Liz stated, picking up on Rory's action. "Not that there's much to see. Kitchen," she said, pointing back towards the front of the room. "And living room." She turned to face the three doorways. "My room, bathroom, Jess's room."

Rory nodded, taking it all in again.

Liz smiled. "I know you're curious. Go on," she suggested, motioning towards Jess's room. "I won't tell."

Rory hesitated.

"Go on," Liz repeated. She threw the back of her arm over her eyes dramatically and started towards the living room. "I didn't see a thing."

Liz turned the corner into the other room, but Rory remained rooted in place. Then, very slowly, she inched towards Jess's room on careful feet and peered in through the doorway. Her eyes immediately fell on a bookshelf, and, without another thought, she walked in.

His room was the smallest in the apartment – barely more than a closet. There was just enough room for his bed, a narrow dresser, and the three bookshelves that lined the wall. She ran her eyes around the area. His walls were bare, and she wondered if he'd taken posters down before he'd left Stars Hollow or if it had always been that way. His large duffel bag was open on the floor beside the bed; she stepped over it as she made her way to the bookshelves. Though a lot of books had been moved to Luke's apartment, the shelves were still surprisingly full. She trailed her eyes over the titles, locating ones she'd read but many more she hadn't. She pulled one out and glanced inside; as she'd expected, his small print filled the margins. Smiling, she replaced it and pulled out another. He'd read that one too. She repeated the move several times, and each time, Jess's notes were inside. He'd read them all. She was suddenly tempted to sit with her back against the wall and read some of his thoughts, but she fought the urge and stood up. Other than the bookshelves, the room was relatively empty – not too surprising, considering that most of his things were still in Stars Hollow. She was slightly disappointed that there wasn't more.

Her eyes moved to the small window, and she made her way over to look outside. It led to the fire escape and beyond that, the alley below. The view was definitely different than what the residents on the opposite side of the building must have – a little darker, gloomier, seedier. The alley housed several dumpsters, and she spotted a broken-down car at the far end, denying access. Looking out, it suddenly made her realize just how different Stars Hollow must be to him.

As she was looking out the window, she heard the click of the locks on the main door being turned, and her heart stopped. He was home. Jerking away, she hurried around his bag and out the door. As she entered the hallway, she stopped in her tracks. In front of her, right inside the main door, was an overly thin, tall man with his arms around Liz, kissing her for all he was worth. Rory blushed and looked away.

"Oh, Rory," Liz said, noticing her and pulling away from Rodney. She smiled and nudged her boyfriend with her elbow. "This is Rodney. Rodney, this is Rory, a friend of Jess's."

"Who?" Rodney asked, looking confused.

"Jess, my son," Liz explained. "You remember."

"Oh, right, right. Jess. Nice to meet you."

Rory smiled uncomfortably.

"I was just about to show her some old pictures. You wanna see?"

"Nah," Rodney answered, shaking his head. "I'll just go watch TV in our room."

"All right then," Liz agreed.

Rodney patted her bottom and headed down the hallway towards Rory. Rory moved out of the way, and he smiled, then disappeared through the beads.

Not sure what to say, Rory turned her attention back to Liz. She seemed unfazed. "C'mon, you're gonna die when you see these pictures," she said, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion beside her.

After a slight hesitation, Rory smiled and joined her.

They spent the next hour or so going through the pictures. Each one had a story, and Liz was happy to share the details. But Rory noticed that most of them were Jess as a baby or toddler, and none of them went past age ten. She wondered why but didn't ask. The men in the pictures also changed, with a fair degree of regularity, and none of them held the slightest resemblance to Jess. Rory knew his father had left when he was little and should have been present in some of them, but he wasn't.

They were nearly through the album when Rodney emerged from the bedroom and strolled to the refrigerator.

"Beer," he said. Rory wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.

"Behind the milk," Liz stated.

Rod located one and pulled it out, using the counter to flip off the lid. "Want one?" he asked, looking in their direction.

Liz looked at Rory.

"Uh, no," Rory stuttered, surprised.

"Stars Hollow always raised them right," Liz praised. "None for me either," she told Rodney.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

The lock flipped open, and Rory's eyes shot to the door. This time, it had to be him. Her heart sped up, and she pushed her hair behind her ears nervously. The other lock clicked, and Rory glanced at Liz, who was clearly oblivious to the sheer panic suddenly shooting through her veins. The door opened, and Rory froze.

His eyes were fixed on the ground when he walked through, shoving his key back into his front pocket. His other arm was extended behind him, guiding the door shut. Rory watched him, amazed he couldn't hear her heart thumping. It was then he glanced into the living room and saw her. He froze too, and she saw confusion and surprise flash through his widened eyes. Then, she saw his gaze move almost imperceptibly to his mother seated beside her. Rodney leaned back against the counter, and, sensing movement, Jess looked in his direction. Rod. Liz. Rory. She saw his jaw tighten, and then, without a word, he turned and walked out the door, letting it slam behind him.

"Jess," she called, finding her voice as soon as the door shut. Her mind was screaming at her to go after him. She stood up and began looking around frantically. Somewhere in the background, she heard Rodney ask what Jess's behavior was all about, but she didn't fully process it. Locating it at last, she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Her hand was on the doorknob when she remembered her manners. Turning back to Liz, she apologized breathlessly, "I'm sorry. I have to go. It was nice meeting you."

If Liz said anything, Rory didn't hear it. She was already out the door and headed for the stairwell.

She threw open the heavy door and started rushing down the stairs, her feet not moving fast enough. "Jess!" she called, trying to look for him and watch her feet at the same time. "Jess! Wait!" When he didn't respond, she moved faster, praying not to trip.

It seemed like the stairs kept stretching on forever, but eventually she reached the entryway and hurried through it and out the main door. Pausing on the stoop, she looked up the street and saw him, walking at a brisk pace towards the corner café. She rushed down the steps and began to run up the street after him. When he kept walking, she stopped and yelled his name desperately.

He paused, as if considering his options. She silently pleaded with him to turn around, and in the next moment, when he stormed back to where she was standing, she almost cried with relief.

"What the hell were you doing up there?" he asked angrily, pointing at the building.

She looked up at the apartments in confusion. "I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just… wanted to see you."

"Well, now you saw me. Go home."

"What? No," Rory stated firmly.

"Rory, go home."

She shook her head. "No."

"Yes," he said seriously before turning and heading away from her again.

She stepped around and stood in front of him. "Why did you leave?"

"You all seemed pretty cozy up there," he retorted. "I didn't want to intrude."

"That's not what I meant. Why did you leave Stars Hollow?"

"You didn't hear?" he asked sarcastically. "I got a B. I'm cured. No, wait, I'm pretty sure you knew that. After all, it was thanks to you, right?"

"Why are you so mad at me?"

"Does Dean know you're here?"

"Dean doesn't have anything to do with this," she stated, frustrated.

"I'm pretty sure he'd disagree."

"We broke up."

"Congratulations," Jess offered, showing no emotion.

She shifted uncomfortably. "You don't care?"

"Not particularly."

Rory shook her head in disbelief. "Fine."

"So is that why you came here?" he asked. "To tell me about Dean? I appreciate the sentiment, but you could've sent a postcard."

"That's not why I'm here."

"There's more?" Jess asked, feigning excitement. "Let me guess. Babette got a new gnome? No, wait. Taylor and Patty finally went at it in the middle of a town meeting? Did Luke suddenly lose the flann—"

"I came because I missed you," Rory interrupted, stopping him cold.

"What?" he asked.

"I said, I came because… because I missed you," she said, more quietly and hesitant.

He nodded. "Huh."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" she asked, a pang shooting through her heart.

"What were you expecting?"

She looked at the buildings around her and shook her head. "Nothing," she said, accepting defeat. "Nevermind. This was obviously a mistake." Avoiding his eyes, she turned and started to walk away.

"Aren't you supposed to kiss me first?" he called after her.

She turned around to look at him. "What?"

"That's how it usually works," he explained.

Anger rising, she stormed back over to him. "You kissed me first."

"A moment of weakness," he casually admitted. "Still doesn't explain you though. When I pulled away, you pulled me back. Why?"

She hesitated, then, with nothing to lose, fixed her eyes on his. "Because I didn't want it to end."

"The chair you nearly knocked over on your way out the door begs to differ."

This time, she almost didn't feel the pain. She knew what he was doing.

"I'm sorry," she said. It was quiet and simple.

He fell silent.

"I kissed you because it felt right. It felt perfect. Everything about it was perfect, except me. I was confused, and every time I looked at you, it just got worse. And I know that doesn't excuse it, and you have every right to hate me, but I just came here… because I wanted you to know the truth."

He looked past her. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This," he said, his tone explaining the word. "It's impossible. Being with you is impossible."

"Why?" she asked, trying to understand.

He forced himself to look at her. "Because every time I try to touch you, you disappear."

She searched his eyes. Then, slowly, she took a step towards him. Her hand fell gently on his cheek as she drew his lips to hers. Hesitantly, he let his hand brush against her hip ever so slightly. She pulled away and smiled. "See, I didn't disappear."

He removed his hand. "Not yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"Planning to move to New York then?"

She frowned. "Well, no, but…"

He took a step back. "You should probably go home."

"I have time. I can stay. You can sho—"

"Go home, Rory," he repeated, his voice serious again.

She looked at him in confusion. "That's it?"

He didn't say anything.

"I don't know how," she said desperately.

His voice was even. "Just go up this block and take a right…"

"That's not what I meant," Rory interrupted.

He glanced at her but quickly looked away.

"You just want me to leave?"

"Yes."

She shook her head. "What is it you always say?" she asked angrily. "It isn't about me! Not _everything_ is about me. Right? So then this is about you?"

He tensed. "Just go home, Rory."

She stared at him. Then, she moved to walk by. As she passed, her arm brushed against his. "Who's running now?" she asked on a wispy breath. He closed his eyes, listening to her footsteps getting further and further away. When he finally allowed himself to open them and look up the block, she was gone.


	22. Puzzle Pieces

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 22: Puzzle Pieces**

**_Disclaimer_**_: I-ay own-ay othing-nay, okay-ay? On't-day ue-say e-may. Anks-thay!_

**_A/N_**_: Sorry this chapter took so long. I was both writer's blocked and busy, a lethal combination. I'm also starting a new job in about a week, so I'll be busy for a while. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out in a relatively prompt manner, but I can't make any promises as to how prompt that'll be. This chapter is dedicated to **Elise** because she's cool, kind, and she wrote a kick-ass Lit fluff fic called "Ever After." (hug) Thanks to **Lee **(beta extraordinaire), **Ali, **and **Julia** for reading this chapter as it progressed, and thanks to my sister **Sarah **(even though circumstances prevented you from beta-ing this chapter, the flowers are enough to earn you a whole slew of author's note thanks. Congrats on the new apartment!). And, lastly, welcome back, **Marissa**! ****Enjoy, review, and be merry. -Becka_

Rory stared blankly at the television screen. The Nielsen Ratings Man himself could have called her up at that moment and asked her what she was watching, and she wouldn't have been able to tell him. Unless he wanted to know about the images playing and replaying behind her eyes. Those she could relate with frightening accuracy.

After a few minutes, she heard muffled voices outside the front door and, needing a distraction, wandered towards the window to look. Outside, her mother and a good-looking guy she presumed was Gus were smiling and laughing. She watched as their words stopped, and an awkward silence fell. Then, suddenly serious, Gus stepped forward, his eyes trained on Lorelai's lips. Rory smiled slightly and headed back to the couch, giving them their privacy.

Another minute passed, and the front door opened. Rory glanced in its direction and met her mother's gaze. Lorelai hurried over to her.

"You're home," she said, sitting down and giving her daughter a quick once-over. "And unscathed. You would not believe how many horrible scenarios I can come up with in the span of a few short hours. If there is an award for creative worrying, I'm this year's recipient. And next year's too, actually; I think I deserve it."

Rory offered a small smile, tears stinging at her eyes at just the sound of her mother's voice.

Seeing the moist glassiness start to take over, Lorelai frowned. "You didn't call me. I told you to call me if something happened," she said softly.

Rory turned her eyes back to the television, angry that he was making her cry again, angry that her mother was seeing it and would blame him. "Nothing happened," she stated, fighting to keep her voice even.

Lorelai's arm wrapped around her and drew her close. "_Something_ happened." When Rory remained silent, Lorelai continued. "You can't go all the way to New York to see him and have nothing happen."

Rory shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "He was Jess."

"Which means?" Lorelai prodded gently.

"He didn't care."

ooo

He'd been walking for hours now, past restaurants and tattoo parlors, nimbly dodging people as he headed nowhere. He was always heading nowhere.

By Union Square, he passed The Strand, one of the more famous bookstores in New York. As he moved around the tables spread along the sidewalk, he glanced at the titles. Rory would've loved the place. He remembered wanting to bring her here the night he'd arrived home after their day together at the Stars Hollow booksale. He also remembered doubting that it would ever happen. He could never quite picture her in New York; it was nearly impossible to fit her into that puzzle. But somehow, she'd done it, all by herself. She'd taken the pieces and spread them out, placed herself among them, and rearranged until it all suddenly seemed right. So right that Jess was sure it must've been wrong before.

A day ago, she and New York had been separate and distinct, as impossible to combine as oil and water. But now everywhere he looked, he saw places she'd love to go, things she'd love to see. He saw her, fitting into his life – fitting into both of his lives – and it scared the hell out of him.

ooo

"He just asked you to leave?" Lorelai asked incredulously after hearing the whole story. "After all of that?"

Now that the tears were dry, Rory felt the anger begin. "He was right," she said bitterly.

"He was?"

"We're impossible," Rory stated. "He knows it, Dean knows it, the whole town knows it, and you've _always_ known it."

"Not necessarily impossible," Lorelai clarified. "More like improbable."

"He did me a favor," she said firmly, only half-hearing her mother. "It would've been a waste of time. We'd never work." She stood up and walked into the kitchen. Lorelai followed after her and watched as Rory immediately busied herself with starting a new pot of coffee.

"Okay, honey, but on the surface, no relationship should work," Lorelai offered, sitting down at the table. "Men are… well, they aren't always the most tactful and considerate of beasts. They think in black and white. They refuse to feel emotions unless forced to under the threat of bodily injury and even then you have to actually inflict a few blows and give them cause to cry before they'll cave. And women… we get upset with them when they don't understand us. We expect them to think like we think, and that just isn't possible because, most of the time, we think crazy, irrational thoughts that have no basis in reality. It's amazing any of us even still try, but we do because when it does work, it _really_ works."

Rory silently reached for a new filter.

"And, actually," Lorelai said hesitantly. "You and Jess aren't _that_ improbable."

Rory paused her actions.

"You have things in common. Something to talk about is a definite plus. And he seems to try with you. Lord knows, he doesn't with anyone else. He listens to you and respects you. For someone who makes Michel look like Miss Manners, that shouldn't be taken lightly. And he's crazy about you; there's no doubt about that."

Rory turned to face her.

"I'm just saying you never know. Two totally probable people who to the entire world look like a potentially perfect couple could end up with absolutely no chemistry and no future. While two improbable people who the whole world thinks are crazy for even trying end up spending the rest of their lives together."

"Why are you saying this? You hate Jess."

"You like Jess," Lorelai explained. "And Luke likes Jess. Maybe I'm the one who's wrong."

Rory smiled a little. "Can you say that again into a tape recorder?"

"Not a chance," Lorelai grinned. "Now, as much as it pains me to say this, please stop making that coffee and come sit down," she said, patting the chair next to her.

Rory complied.

"Do you _really_ think he doesn't care?"

"I don't know what I think," Rory replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well, _I _think he wouldn't have turned around if he didn't care. He wouldn't have kissed you back if he didn't care, and believe me, he wouldn't have gotten so mad if he didn't care."

"He doesn't care enough," Rory clarified. "He just let me leave."

"And you just left," Lorelai pointed out.

"Are you saying I should've stayed?" Rory asked, defensive.

"I'm saying that he's scared, Rory, and you know that. I think, maybe, you're mad at him because you thought it would be easy."

Rory started to interrupt, but Lorelai stopped her. "You thought that you'd break up with Dean and go to New York, and Jess would just drop everything and come back."

Rory shook her head and looked away.

"Things are never going to be easy with Jess. I understood that a long time ago, and that's why I didn't want you to get involved. He's a mess. He has baggage and problems that you, thank God, will always have a hard time understanding. He's never going to be like Dean."

"I don't want him to be like Dean," Rory argued.

"I know that," Lorelai said gently. "But I'm not sure you're gonna want him to be Jess either, and I think that's something you should think about."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Rory said angrily, standing up. "If you don't even believe that I want to try, why would he? He's in New York, and he isn't coming back."

"Rory…"

"It doesn't matter," she repeated before walking towards her room and shutting the door.

ooo

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Jess finally turned the corner towards the apartment building. The one lone streetlight had gone out before he'd left for Stars Hollow and had apparently never been replaced. Tucked away from the lights of the city, the street was dark and still. He breathed it in, enjoying the silence.

Climbing the front steps, he reached the outside door, which was no longer propped open. He pulled his keys out and unlocked it then slipped inside. As soon as he opened the second door and started up the stairs, he heard the moans of a couple making out loudly in the stairwell. It wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence, and as he shuffled past them, he was just grateful that the woman wasn't his mother. That, too, had been known to happen now and then.

When he reached the apartment door, he undid the locks and slowly edged it open. Peering around it as he'd done a million times before, he checked to make sure the coast was clear. All of the lights were off, and his mother's bedroom door was closed. He flipped the locks again, and then, on quiet feet, he hurried through the apartment and soundlessly shut his bedroom door behind him. In the past, he often made a ruckus on his way in, itching for a fight to work off some pent-up steam, but tonight he was just tired. The last thing he wanted was to waste his energy yelling at Liz.

The city lights were stronger on this side of the building, shining through the window and illuminating the room enough to see. He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes. Then, fluidly, he drew his t-shirt over his head and threw it into the corner. As he watched it land, his eyes fell on his bookcase.

She'd been in his room.

He felt a tightening in his chest, but he wasn't sure if it was out of anger or something else entirely. He stood and walked to the books. His fingers glided across the spines, gently pushing them back into an even line. It was one of many tricks he used to determine when Liz went through his things. He looked around the room for any other disturbances and, finding none, lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A minute later, there was a soft knock on the door.

He ignored it.

The second knock was louder and the third even louder than the second.

"Jesus! What?" he called irritably, shifting up to a sitting position.

As if it had been an invitation, Liz pushed the door open and walked inside. She looked around the room suspiciously. "Where's Rory?"

Jess narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Rory," Liz said impatiently. "Pretty girl from Stars Hollow. Where is she?"

"Probably _in_ Stars Hollow," Jess answered, clearly annoyed.

Liz walked towards the bed and pointed. "Is she under here?" she asked, not giving him time to answer before she ducked down and peered underneath.

Jess jumped to his feet. "She. Isn't. Here."

"Fire escape?" Liz asked, heading towards the window.

Jess stepped in front of her, suddenly infuriated. "Get out," he said firmly.

"Fire escape, it is," Liz confirmed.

When she tried to move around him, Jess moved in front of her again. "Have you been drinking?" he asked, even though he was already aware it was a question that didn't need an answer.

"I'm not going to let you take advantage of that innocent girl," Liz stated.

Jess's jaw clenched.

"She likes you, and there's no telling what she'd do if you asked."

"Get out," he repeated, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Don't act so offended. This has all happened before. I've learned to keep an eye on you," she said, waving a finger at him.

Jess shook his head in disbelief. Once. She'd caught him _once_.

"Whatever." He didn't fucking care anymore. He moved aside, and she went quickly to the window.

"She isn't there," she mumbled.

He met her eyes in challenge and waited.

She frowned and glanced around the room again. Then, running her hand over her eyes, she muttered something about finding her in the morning.

As soon as she walked through the door, he stepped forward and slammed it loudly. The window pane shook. He stared at the closed door for a moment, almost as if he was expecting it to explain what he'd done to deserve such a basket-case for a mother. When, as expected, it didn't reply, he knelt by his duffel bag and shoved his hand all the way to the bottom. Pulling out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, he threw open the window and climbed out onto the fire escape.

As the smoke drifted from his lips and out over the alley, he sighed, knowing full well he was the only person who'd remember any of this in the morning.

ooo

Rory looked at the bedside clock. 2:30. She had been laying there for over four hours, thinking about what Jess had said, what her mother had said, and what she believed. She was fuming, bordering on the point of explosion. 2:31. It wouldn't wait.

Throwing the blankets off, she stormed out of her room, down the hallway, and straight up the stairs to her mother's room. As she approached, she was surprised to see light shining through the crack under the door. She hesitated, and by the time she reached the door, instead of throwing it open like she'd planned, she knocked lightly.

Surprised, Lorelai looked up from her textbook. She waited, sure she must have imagined the knock, but a second or two later, she heard it again. "Rory?" she called.

Rory pushed the door open and peered inside.

"What's going on?" Lorelai asked.

Walking fully into the room, Rory took a deep breath. "I like Jess."

"I know."

"No," Rory clarified. "I _like_ Jess. I like all of him. I like that he's a mess. I like that he has baggage and problems that I don't understand. I like that things with him will never be easy," she continued, meeting her mother's eyes. "I like that he's read more than I have. I like that he can talk music with Lane, and I like that you and he don't get along because you two are more alike than either of you will ever admit. I like that he plays tricks on Taylor, and I like that he convinced me to destroy that snowman this past winter because, even though it hurt you and it hurt Dean, it made me begin to realize that there are so many things about him to like. And I know being with him doesn't make sense. And I know that it's impossible or improbable or whatever it is, but I can deal with all of that. What I can't deal with is you thinking that I can't handle being with him or that I don't understand what I'm getting myself into. Because I do understand. I know that his mother isn't perfect, and I know that his father left, and I know that it's going to be a lot of work to overcome that. But I also know that there's some part of him – a really big part – that wants to try. And, anyway, I'm not perfect either, so why should I expect him to be? And I shouldn't have said that it doesn't matter because it _does_ matter. It does matter to me if he stays in New York or comes back to Stars Hollow, but it's _his_ choice, and I can't make it for him. _That's_ why I left. Not because I thought it would be easy and it wasn't, but because I know that things with him are hard, and I'm willing to wait. And I know it makes me sad and angry, and if he doesn't come back or even if he does, that I might get hurt, and I know you don't want to see me get hurt, but I think it's worth it, and I think someday you'll see that. And I love you," she said, her voice cracking. "Which is why I just want you to understand… and…" Faltering, she dropped her eyes. Her voice was just a whisper when she finished, "And I really don't want to fight anymore."

Lorelai watched her for a second then she grabbed the textbooks off the bed and set them on the bedside table. "Come here," she offered. Immediately, Rory walked across the room and climbed in beside her.

Kissing the top of her daughter's head, Lorelai smiled. "That was quite a mouthful."

"I took notes, but I forgot them in my room," Rory quietly admitted.

"You did fine without them," Lorelai promised. "It's too bad Jess wasn't here to see that."

Rory burrowed her head into her mother's shoulder and sighed. "He'll come back, right?"

"If he knows what's good for him," Lorelai assured her.

Rory nodded and, seconds later, drifted to sleep.

ooo

Luke looked up as the diner bell chimed for the first time that morning. He was shocked to see Lorelai Gilmore walking towards the counter. "Hey," he greeted.

"Coffee," she greeted back.

He nodded and turned to pour her a mug. "It's Sunday," he said over his shoulder.

"You're too late; the calendar already let me in on that secret."

"It's 8:00 on a Sunday."

"Wow, the clock was right too," she joked.

He set the mug in front of her, and she immediately snatched it up.

"Any particular reason you're up so early on a Sunday?"

"Finals start tomorrow."

"That's right," he smiled. "You graduate this week, right?"

"Assuming gallons of free coffee get me through the tests."

"Coffee won't be a problem," he promised.

Lorelai smiled. "I'm glad I keep you around."

"You want a donut?"

"Really, _really_ glad."

"Chocolate-chocolate, okay?"

"You know those Glad garbage bags? Named after me," she answered.

He gave her another small smile and moved a donut onto a plate for her.

She eyed him as she took a bite.

"What?" he asked nervously.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Depends on the question."

"How messed up is Jess?" she asked bluntly.

His eyes shot to hers. She wasn't kidding. "Depends on who you ask," he answered, weighing his words carefully.

"I'm asking you."

"He's a good kid, all things considered."

"Would you trust him with Rory?"

"Yes."

Lorelai nodded, accepting his answer. They were both quiet. She stared down into her coffee for a moment then she met his eyes again. "She likes him."

"I thought she might," he admitted.

"He likes her."

"He does," Luke confirmed.

Lorelai took a deep breath, knowing she was about to tread into dangerous territory. Rory's confidences were meant to be kept, but today, she was making an exception.

Luke waited, sensing she wanted to say something.

"Rory went to New York," she said finally.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise. "When?"

"Yesterday."

"What'd he do?" Luke asked quickly, worry setting in. Jess may be a good kid, but he'd cornered the market on stupid behavior.

"He got mad and sent her home."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay."

"He's stubborn," Luke tried to explain.

Lorelai smiled. "I hear it's genetic."

"I'll talk to him."

"Not necessary," Lorelai stated, but as Luke refilled her mug, she knew her job was done.

ooo

Emerging from his bedroom with tired eyes, Jess stumbled towards the bathroom. When he reached the door, it was open, and the light was on. He squinted against the brightness, and when his eyes focused, he saw Liz inside, struggling with a bottle of aspirin by the sink.

"Dammit," she swore, not realizing he was there. "Who invented child-proof caps anyway?" She was on the brink of tears.

As she fumbled with it some more, he stepped inside and took it from her hand. With a turn of his wrist, it was open. Taking her hand, he dropped two tablets onto her palm, shut the bottle, and put it back in the medicine cabinet.

She lifted the glass of water and swallowed them down. "Thanks, baby," she said, turning to look at him. He was already back in his room.

Once inside, he quickly changed into fresh clothes and tugged on his shoes. Then, grabbing the book he'd found out of place the night before, he crawled out the window and headed down the fire escape.

ooo

Rory rubbed her eyes and walked downstairs. As she entered the living room, she found her mother jotting something in a notebook while glancing periodically at the textbook in her lap.

"Studying already?" she asked.

"I brought you coffee," Lorelai answered.

"Ooh," Rory cooed, grabbing it from the table. "Luke's already?"

"Early bird gets the worm," Lorelai chimed, smiling at her daughter.

"You hate worms."

"Which is why this is the only time I plan on imitating an early bird."

"I'm proud of you," Rory stated, sitting on the other end of the couch. "You've become such a good little studier."

"Thank you," Lorelai replied.

"Of course, your drive will likely wear off by this afternoon, but right now, it's very inspiring."

"Glad to hear it… I think. That _was_ a compliment, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay, good. I think my brain is moving in spits and starts."

"So, afternoon was optimistic then?"

"I think, probably, yes," Lorelai nodded.

Rory smiled.

"How are you this morning?" Lorelai asked.

"Better."

"Must be the coffee."

"It does tend to have that effect," Rory agreed.

Lorelai smiled and turned back to her book.

"About last night," Rory began. "I'm sorry I flipped out like that."

Lorelai lifted her head again and looked at her daughter. "I'm not."

"You're not?"

"Nope. I needed to hear it, and I think you needed to say it."

"I did."

Lorelai squeezed her hand reassuringly and returned to studying.

"Can I help you study?" Rory asked. "Quiz you or something?"

"Ooh, I have flashcards," Lorelai exclaimed, pulling out a pile of brightly colored cards. She handed them to Rory.

"They have stickers."

"And glitter," Lorelai pointed out.

"Why?"

"Helps me remember?" she offered.

"Really? How?"

Lorelai paused, trying to think up a way the decorations were helpful. After a moment, she gave up. "Makes them pretty?" she clarified.

"Also important," Rory agreed.

Lorelai grinned and turned to face her. "Okay, hit me."

"List the three most important points to make when drafting a grant proposal," Rory read.

"Hello Kitty, Garfield, and Dukes of Hazzard."

"What?"

Lorelai grabbed the card from her hand and pointed at the stickers by each point. "See? Told you it helps me remember."

Rory shook her head. "Oh boy."

ooo

After a morning of reading in the park and a long lunch, Jess headed home, knowing that Liz would be at work for the rest of the day. As he walked up the street, he noticed a truck parked in front of his apartment building. It was unusual for vehicles to be on the street at all, as most New Yorkers took public transportation. He gave it a quick glance and kept walking, years of experience telling him to keep his head down and avoid eye contact.

When he neared it, he heard the driver's side door open, and before he could reach the turn towards the front stoop, a man walked around the truck. "Jess?"

He looked up, surprised to see his uncle standing in front of him. Immediately, he got defensive. "Liz is at work," he stated.

"I know; I'm not here to see Liz."

"Just in the neighborhood?" Jess asked sarcastically.

"I hate New York," Luke reminded him.

"Right," Jess nodded. "So Rory sent you."

"Rory doesn't know anything about this."

Jess scoffed and shook his head. "Go back to Stars Hollow," he stated as he turned and headed towards the door.

Luke followed him. "Thanks, Jess. I'd love to come in," he muttered, more to himself than to his nephew.

Jess made his way into the building and up the stairwell, ignoring his uncle completely. When they reached the apartment door, he turned to face Luke. "You have ten minutes. That's it."

"That'll be plenty," Luke assured him. They walked inside.

After closing the door, Jess went into the living room and folded his arms over his chest. He didn't bother to offer Luke a seat.

Luke glanced around the apartment. "How are things going?" he asked.

"Fine," Jess replied tersely.

"Fine?"

"Great," Jess rephrased.

"Great? Wow, from fine to great in less than a second."

"I guess it's the pleasure of your company," Jess retorted.

Luke nodded and turned to his nephew. "What are you doing, Jess?"

"Waiting for you to say whatever the hell you need to say."

"You missed this?" Luke asked, gesturing at their surroundings. "Living in a hole in the wall with your mother?"

"It beats Stars Hollow."

Luke faced him with his arms folded over his chest, unaware that he was mimicking Jess's pose. "She wants you to come back."

Jess shook his head and walked past Luke into the kitchen. "I don't care."

"I think you do."

"Well, you're wrong."

"She came all the way to New York."

"I know," Jess replied. "The girl has too much time on her hands."

"Cut the crap, Jess."

"Why are you _here_, Luke?" Jess asked, turning his glare on him. "To convince me to come back? Act like you've missed me? Like the town has missed me? In a couple of weeks, _she_ won't even miss me. Go home and get over it. I have."

"Sure, you have."

"Hey, I _have_," Jess said, gesturing angrily. "She had her chance, and she didn't want to take it. Personally, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of that whole, stupid town. So if you think you could possibly say something to change my mind, you're wrong. You can save your breath."

Luke set his mouth into a line and fixed his eyes on his nephew.

Irritated by his lack of response, Jess waved dismissively and turned his attention to the insides of the refrigerator.

After a moment, Luke's voice broke the silence. "Running didn't solve their problems, Jess. You know that."

Jess slammed the fridge and turned around. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"For as much as you hate your parents, you sure are determined to end up like them."

"Don't give me that shit," Jess stated, walking past him again.

"Liz couldn't deal with our dad being sick, so she ran to New York."

"This is an old story."

"Your dad couldn't deal with a kid, so he ran off."

"Really, Uncle Luke, thanks for the trip down memory lane; don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Is that what you want to be? You can't deal, so you run off?"

"You're crazy. I didn't run off. I thought I had to be in Stars Hollow, and when I figured out that Liz didn't care if I stayed or came back, I came back. I never wanted to be there in the first place."

"You're better than this, Jess. You may not believe it, but I do."

"Seriously, spare me the inspirational speech. It's a bunch of bull."

"Rory cares about you," Luke stated. "You can't ask for much more than that."

"Please, Rory doesn't care about anyone but herself."

"You don't believe that," Luke said calmly. "She gave you a chance."

"How noble," Jess scoffed. "Be sure to thank her for me."

Luke looked away, frustrated. "She isn't going to wait forever, Jess."

"Hey, I didn't ask her to wait at all."

"So you're just going to stay here?" Luke asked. "No school, no job, no future, no chance to move forward?"

"You're seriously going to stand here and lecture me about moving forward?" Jess asked incredulously. "You've been stuck in that town since birth. You work at the same job. You live in the same apartment. You haven't had a date in as long as I've known you, and you just sit around, pining for someone you'll never have. Don't act like you're some role model."

Luke met his eyes. "I may not be much, but I'm all you've got."

"Great," Jess mocked. "I feel much better."

Irritated, Luke took a deep breath. His voice remained calm as he spoke. "I love my sister, but she isn't going to change, Jess. However she is now, she's always going to be like that. You need to face that. And your dad? He's probably never going to come back. So you can either stay here and be alone and miserable, or you can live in Stars Hollow and be miserable with people who care about you. It's your choice. My door's open. It always has been."

Jess broke eye contact and stared at the ground.

Without another word, Luke walked out the door.


	23. Margaritas, Beer, and Tasseled Cupcakes

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 23: Margaritas, Beer, and Tasseled Cupcakes**

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Gilmore Girls or its characters. This chapter uses actual dialogue from "Lorelai's Graduation Day"; I'm borrowing it with the utmost respect for its original authors and their creativity and have no intention of claiming it as my own. Also, you may notice that one of the graduate's names deviates from the standard alphabetical order. Blame ASP for that._

_**A/N**: It is practically unheard of for another chapter of DB to come out this quickly, but I was inspired, and after this weekend, it might be awhile before I can find time to write again. This isn't a trend – just a preemptive peace offering. This chapter is dedicated to **Kat** because I am so happy she is still reading DB and occasionally writing GG stories of her own. I miss you, but I'm glad to hear from you now and then. Thanks to **Lee** for the beta, **Ali** for updating NOGG essentially at my request, and **Sarah** for, you know, being Sarah. Please review, guys! -Becka_

"I am a free woman!" Lorelai cheered, dropping her books on the floor. "The last test has been taken! The last pencil has been sharpened! The last coffee has been drunk! No, wait, scratch that. The last 'I need to stay up all night and cram useless information into my head but not the last cup of coffee ever' coffee has been drunk!"

"She seems excited," Lane drolly observed from her position on the couch.

"She has about twenty-five of those coffees shooting through her bloodstream right now," Rory explained.

"Hand over the pins, Sookie. I'm ready to hem!" Lorelai exclaimed, her hand shooting out towards her best friend.

"Are you sure it's only twenty-five?" Lane whispered.

"She might have snuck a few in when I wasn't looking," Rory admitted.

Sookie handed over the pin cushion. "Are you sure you don't want to take a break first, honey?" she asked Lorelai. "This can wait."

"I have to go with the adrenaline rush, Sook. If I stop now, every one of my bodily systems is going to grind to a halt, and I'll probably pass out. You'll be lucky if you revive me in time for the wedding. You'll be lucky if you revive me in time for Rory's wedding."

"Hey," Rory objected.

Lorelai turned to her. "What?"

"You make that sound like it's a _very_ long time off."

"I don't see a ring on that finger," Lorelai replied. "And it better at least be a long time off. The 'very' is still up for debate."

Rory frowned and leaned back against the couch.

Lorelai turned back to Sookie and, for the first time, focused on the fact that she was in her wedding dress. "Oh, Sookie! You look beautiful."

"This old thing?" Sookie asked, blushing as she smoothed down the skirt.

"Jackson's a lucky man," Lorelai stated.

"I'm a lucky woman."

"Yes, but Jackson is luckier."

"Stop," Sookie dismissed with a wave of her hand. She stepped up on the small stool. "Now pin me."

"Okay, honey, Lucky Jackson isn't actually here right now," Lorelai teased.

"You know what I meant," Sookie cooed.

Lorelai smiled and knelt down to pin the hem. "So what's the latest gossip?" she asked. "All of this studying has been very distracting."

The three other women all paused in thought.

"Well," Lane offered hesitantly. "Kirk's cast comes off soon."

Lorelai glanced over her shoulder at the two younger girls. "That's it? That's the best you've got?"

"Luke got a new flannel shirt," Rory tried.

"That, I knew," Lorelai admitted. "Wow! Slow week!"

"Yeah, there isn't much excitement since Je—" Lane began. Realizing what she was about to say, she immediately corrected herself. "—esus died."

Lorelai fought a smile. "That _was_ a downer," she agreed.

"You can say his name," Rory calmly interjected.

"Actually, there's some debate on that," Lane replied, pretending not to understand. "Depending on the context, at least."

"I meant Jess," Rory clarified.

"Oh," Lane said weakly.

"I'm fine," Rory assured them. "I've had time to process it, and I'm fine."

Sookie and Lorelai exchanged a look.

Lane gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "Of course you are," she agreed. "There's nothing wrong with being single. Hey, I've been single for weeks now."

"Exactly," Rory affirmed. The three other women fell silent, and Rory shifted uncomfortably. "You really do look beautiful, Sookie," she said, changing the subject.

Sookie smiled. "Thanks, sweetie."

After another long silence, Rory stood up. "I should probably go change into my dress. I'm up next." She headed towards her room. As soon as she was inside, she shut the door and went to her closet. She pulled out the blue bridesmaid dress and laid it on her bed. Unbuttoning her shirt, she glanced around the room. Her eyes fell on the white rabbit on the bedside table. Immediately, she looked back down at her shirt. She took a deep breath. She was fine.

x x x

"Beer?" Rodney offered, holding a bottle out to Jess as he walked through the door.

Jess stopped in his tracks and looked at the man. Reaching out, he took the bottle and used the counter to flip the cap off. He took a long sip and felt the once-familiar burn as the liquid slipped down his throat.

Rodney nodded and smiled, then grabbed a beer for himself. He opened the bottle and took a deep swig before turning his eyes to Jess. "That girl of yours was pretty," he said, trying to make conversation.

Jess's mouth set.

"Rory, was it?" Rod asked.

Her name swirled around him before settling into place, heavy upon his limbs. Fighting against it, he raised the bottle again. The liquid stung less as it went down the second time.

"She seemed smart too."

Jess shifted his eyes to look at his mother's boyfriend but didn't say anything.

"Funny who girls are attracted to, isn't it?" Rod said casually.

Jess took another sip before responding. "Not as funny as the fact that Liz _always_ manages to find a bigger loser than the last guy."

Rod's stance stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out," Jess replied, meeting Rod's eyes.

Rod held up his hands. "Hey, I was just being friendly."

"I'm never going to like you," Jess stated, his tone dead-serious.

Rodney shrugged. "You never know."

"I know," Jess answered before continuing to his room. He set the half-empty bottle on a shelf as he walked by. The door slammed behind him.

Rodney lifted his beer again. "Whatever, kid," he mumbled around the bottle's lip before taking another deep swallow.

x x x

"So does this mean when I graduate I get margaritas?" Rory asked, glancing at her mother. After altering the dresses, the post-cramming crash had begun, and Lorelai had decided it was time to celebrate.

"After college, yes," Lorelai nodded. "You will be allowed margaritas. In moderation. Moderated margaritas," she clarified. "Huh. That sounds cool."

"Alliteration," Rory offered.

"No teaching," Lorelai ordered. "I've had enough teaching to last me a lifetime."

"I think that's the point."

Lorelai considered her statement. "Fair enough," she nodded. "You've always been very smart."

"Says the soon-to-be college graduate."

Lorelai smiled. "That sounds nice."

"It does," Rory agreed.

Lorelai looked down at her drink. "One more sip, and the room should start spinning."

"Then it looks like I'm cutting you off, missy," Rory replied, lifting the glass out of her mother's hand and setting it on the table.

"Hey," Lorelai objected.

"I don't even wanna think about how the margaritas are interacting with all of the coffee you drank this week."

"Warm fizzy fuzziness."

"Interesting," Rory replied. "And slightly disturbing."

Lorelai grinned and wrapped an arm around her daughter, pulling her tight. "Today was a good day."

"It was," Rory agreed.

"I accomplished something today."

"You accomplish things every day," Rory reminded her.

"But today it was something big."

They fell into silent agreement. After a minute, Lorelai glanced down at Rory. "So, how are you dealing with Jesus's death?"

Rory smiled, remembering Lane's comment. "That was a horrible save."

"Yes, it was," Lorelai agreed. "But we gotta give Lane points for creativity."

"But the tiptoeing isn't necessary," Rory countered. "I'm okay, and I will continue to be okay."

"I like to tiptoe. It's graceful and dainty."

"Probably not at the moment," Rory quipped.

"On the contrary, alcohol actually seems to improve my coordination."

"I guess it couldn't make it worse."

"You're very mean when I'm drunk," Lorelai observed.

Rory gave her an innocent smile.

"I'll stop asking," Lorelai promised, referring to Jess.

"I appreciate that."

Lorelai squeezed her tighter and after a slight pause, whispered, "Now can I please finish that margarita? It's so lonely over there."

Rory smirked and handed the glass back to her mother.

Lorelai finished off the last sip then leaned back against the couch. "Ah, yeah, there it goes," she observed as the room started spinning.

x x x

"Do I smell eggs?" Liz asked, walking up behind Jess and leaning over his shoulder to look in the pan.

He nodded and reached over to turn off the stove.

"And pancakes," she exclaimed, grabbing one off a nearby plate. "You made breakfast."

"It's not a big deal. I'm tired of eating out."

"It's sweet," she smiled.

He scooped some eggs onto a plate and handed it to her.

She walked over to the tiny dining table and sat down. "Come sit with me."

After a slight hesitation, he reluctantly took his own plate and joined her. They ate in silence.

"These are really good," Liz said, pulling him from his thoughts.

"They're okay."

She kept her eyes trained on him, and, after a minute, he finally gave in. "What?"

"You pissed Rod off yesterday."

Jess rolled his eyes and turned back to his food.

"Would it be so hard to try to get along with him?"

"He's an asshole."

"Hey," she admonished.

"Like you don't know it," he retorted, glancing up at her.

"He's nicer than the last one," she weakly defended.

"Yeah," Jess agreed. "A regular Ted Bundy to his Jeffrey Dahmer."

"Can't you just try, Jess?"

"Hey, I _am_ trying."

"Making breakfast, while sweet, does not make things better around here."

Jess pushed his plate away and stood up. "Whatever."

"What?"

"_You_ should be the one making breakfast. Why don't you try acting like a mother?"

"I took your side," she defended.

"Sure, you did," Jess scoffed.

"Ever since Pete, I _always_ take your side, Jess. You know that."

"As long as you're sober," he retorted.

"I do my best. You know I do my best."

He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he said, heading towards the door.

"You're just like your father," she mumbled.

He heard. In a flash, he turned and stormed back over to her. "I come back," he yelled. "I _always_ come back. Do you even realize how crazy you are? Do you? That crap you accused me of?" he spat, gesturing towards his bedroom.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, bewildered.

"And with Rory?" he continued. "Rory, of all people! And you don't even remember. You _never_ remember. But I stay, and I come back because if I don't, who the hell is going to watch out for you? Luke is tired of it. _I'm_ tired of it. All of it. So don't pretend like you do your best, and don't act like I'm the bad guy. If people give up and leave, it's because of you. It's _your_ fault."

"My fault?" she snapped back. "Jimmy seemed perfectly happy sticking around until you came along."

He froze.

Seeing the look on his face, she stood up and tried to reach for him. "Jess, I'm sorry."

He took a step back.

"I didn't mean that, baby. You know I didn't mean that. I get upset, and I say things that I don't –"

The door slammed shut before she could finish.

x x x

Feeling slightly lost, Lorelai glanced around the graduate check-in room. She'd been hiding out there for the past several hours, afraid that if she took one step outside Emily would blow her cover. She sighed and looked at the door just in time to see her daughter walk through. A smile broke across her face. "Ah, there you are! I could've sworn this morning you said you'd be here by six," she stated, reaching out to pull Rory into a hug.

Rory glanced down at her watch. "It's 5:50."

Lorelai grabbed her arm and looked. "My God, it's only 5:50?"

"I'm early."

Lorelai frowned. "Not early enough."

"Well, I had to change," Rory explained. "And then I stopped by Luke's. We're supposed to go there before dinner, by the way. I made it here as fast as I could. Why? What's going on?"

"Emily is here."

"Emily who?" Rory asked innocently.

"Emily, your grandmother, that's who."

"Oh, yeah, I _may_ have invited her and Grandpa."

"She already ratted you out."

"I just thought they should be here," Rory defended. "I mean, look at you. You're in your gown, looking all collegiate and accomplished. They shouldn't miss that. You shouldn't let them miss that."

"Fine," Lorelai gave in. "You're right, but because you are the cause of this, you get to run interference."

"What kind of interference?" 

"She brought Raul."

"Grandma brought a date?" Rory asked, confused.

"A cameraman. He worked on 'Welcome to Scab Land'."

Rory wrinkled her nose. "I swear I did not invite Raul."

"Regardless, Raul is here, complete with his camera."

"Grandma's just proud of you."

"Well, her pride is making the other kids hate me."

"What other kids?"

"Zach, for one," Lorelai said.

Rory frowned. "Zach's a jerk."

"You haven't even met him and already you're reading him like a book," Lorelai remarked. "The good news is, so far, no one knows I'm the one with the rich, overbearing mother, a fact I'd prefer to keep under wraps. I really don't want to be the outcast here."

"I'll deal with Grandma."

"How?"

"Just trust me," Rory assured her.

Lorelai smiled gratefully. "With my life."

"Now let me look at you in your gown."

She took a step back and held her hands out to her sides.

"I was right about the dress," Rory said proudly. "It's perfect."

"I didn't doubt it for a second."

Rory's forehead scrunched in concentration. "This look is reminding me of someone."

"Judge Wapner?" Lorelai offered.

"There's our little graduate," Sookie cooed as she walked in the door beside Jackson. "Oh, my God, look at that gown! You look just like the Statue of Liberty."

"That's it," Rory cheered. "_That's_ who you look like."

"Ah, all big and stony?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Sookie dismissed. "You look amazing."

Lorelai smiled and looked at Sookie's fiancé. "Hmm, you look very GQ."

"Yeah, nice suit," Rory agreed.

"Oh, it's thanks to my new best friend Ermenegildo Zegna," he said proudly.

"Don't you love how he can pronounce it and all?" Sookie asked.

"Very Cosmopolitan," Lorelai agreed.

"He got it for the rehearsal dinner," Sookie explained. "It's his first real suit."

"And not my last," Jackson interjected. "I look hot!"

Lorelai and Rory exchanged a smile.

"So, you know Emily's out there, right?" Sookie asked.

"I'm taking care of it," Rory vowed.

Lorelai nodded. "She's my Frank Farmer tonight."

"Who?" Jackson asked.

"Devoted bodyguard to Rachel 'Rach' Marron," Lorelai clarified as if it were common knowledge.

"Who?" Jackson repeated.

Lorelai looked at Sookie. "Get this man to a Blockbuster! He's breaking my heart."

"Will do," Sookie giggled.

"Hey, guys, you are not gonna believe this!" a man exclaimed, running into the room.

"You're Mr. Announcement Guy today," a woman interjected.

"What, are you going to pipe in every time I talk?"

"Can it!"

"Stuff it!"

"Zach and Liza," Lorelai explained to her friends. "They're in love."

"Clearly," Sookie replied.

"That's Zach?" Rory asked, glaring at him.

"Careful, sweetie," Lorelai said, patting her daughter's hand. "That withering stare has been known to kill."

"So," Zach continued. "Mrs. Got Bucks out there not only has a cameraman, she's got a sound guy too."

"On second thought, stare away," Lorelai clarified in a low whisper.

"It's like a Baz Luhrmann movie out there," Zach added.

Lorelai frowned.

"It could be worse," Rory suggested.

"How?"

"It could be like a Quentin Tarentino movie."

"Give Emily a few more seconds, and scenes of senseless violence might not seem so farfetched."

"I'll go talk to her right now," Rory promised, heading towards the door.

"Is Lorelai Gilmore here?" a woman called. She looked around the room, a box in her arms.

Rory glanced back at her mother and saw her desperate look. Immediately, she hurried over to the woman. "I'm Lorelai Gilmore," she said quickly, guiding her out the door and away from the other graduates.

Lorelai watched them go, then mumbled gratefully, "I really love that kid."

x x x

"She was never allergic to flowers before."

"It's a recently acquired allergy," Rory explained to Emily. "The pollen or something. We're not really sure. She's going to see a doctor to try to get shots for it, but in the meantime, she probably shouldn't wear a corsage."

"What if we keep the flowers away from her skin?"

"It's not just a rash. There's coughing, sneezing, this weird wheezing noise. Sort of like, 'Hech! Hech! Hech!'" Rory imitated, sounding like a cat with a stubborn hairball.

"Stop making that awful noise," Emily ordered.

"See, exactly. It _is_ awful, and we wouldn't want Mom to start wheezing in the middle of the ceremony."

"No, I suppose not," Emily agreed. "Well, all right. No corsage." She waved the woman with the box away and then turned to Raul. "Are you in position? Get in position! The ceremony's going to start anytime now."

"Raul, wait," Rory exclaimed. She reached out and grabbed Raul's arm, stopping him from going. "Actually, Grandma, I had an idea."  
  
"What kind of idea?"

"Well, what if I just took pictures of Mom with a disposable camera?"

"Why on earth would you do that?" Emily asked in horror.

"It's fun," Rory explained. "And old-fashioned, and there are programs now where you can make picture slideshows with music. You can even add older pictures of Mom when she was growing up or of you and Grandpa when you graduated."

"Raul can edit together a video."

"But there aren't videos from back then," Rory said quickly.

Emily paused. "I suppose that's true."

"I think Mom would love it."

"She would?" Emily asked, considering the idea. "Well, what about one of those digital cameras? Wouldn't that make things easier?"

"I guess," Rory agreed. "But we don't have one."

"Raul can get one." Emily turned to the cameraman. "Raul, put down that silly video-camera and go get one of those digital cameras out of your van."

"But what about..."

"Shoo-shoo!" Emily ordered. "Quickly! The ceremony's about to start. I'm not paying you to stand around and shoot the breeze now, am I?"

Raul hurried off, and Emily turned to her granddaughter. "What an excellent idea."

Rory smiled and, catching her mother's eye off in the wings, gave her a covert thumbs-up.

x x x

"Victor David Fuller," the graduation speaker announced from the front of the stage. The graduate walked across and received his degree. "Nancy Brenda Gatson."

Lorelai looked around and saw Rory creep towards the front of the room, camera in hand. She smiled.

"Joanne Garver."

Lorelai and the rest of her row stood up and headed towards the stage.

"John Lawrence Gilfer."

She took a deep breath.

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore."

She walked across the stage and took the diploma. Then, pausing, she looked at Rory. The camera flashed. Slowly, she let her eyes drift to where her parents sat and saw the proud look on her father's face. Emily reached up and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Her eyes starting to sting as well, Lorelai swallowed around the lump in her throat, and then, standing tall, she moved her tassel from left to right.

"Gretchen Greeman," the announcer continued.

x x x

After the ceremony, Lorelai glanced around the room and spotted her parents standing off to the side with Rory. Without a second thought, she headed over.

"Hey, Mom, Dad," she greeted.

"Lorelai," Emily returned.

"Well, I did it."

Richard nodded. "Yes."

"I'm sure Rory took some beautiful pictures," Emily remarked, looking at her granddaughter. Rory smiled, and Emily turned her attention back to her daughter. "Congratulations, Lorelai."

"Thank you. I'm glad you guys came," she said sincerely.

"Yes, well, we should get going," Emily replied, her voice formal. "I guess we'll see you tomorrow for dinner."

"Hey, wait. We need a picture," Lorelai stated.

"Rory got lots of pictures."

"No, of the four of us," Lorelai clarified. "Me in the middle with the gown, you know – the traditional pose."

"All right," Emily accepted. "But who'll take it?"

"Raul's still here," Lorelai reminded her. "Hey, Raul!"

He hurried over, and Rory handed him the camera. They gathered together.

"Okay, on the count of one, two—"

Past Raul, Lorelai saw Zach looking disapprovingly in their direction. Facing the camera again, she smiled proudly.

"Three. Cheese!"

x x x

Lorelai linked her arm through Rory's as they walked up the sidewalk towards Luke's. "It was a nice ceremony, wasn't it?"

"It was a great ceremony," Rory agreed. "_You_ were great. I was very proud. Grandma and Grandpa were very proud," she stressed.

"I'm glad they were there," Lorelai admitted. "Thank you for inviting them despite my explicit insistence that they not be invited."

Rory smiled. "You're welcome."

"You did a great job running interference."

"About that," Rory interrupted. "You're allergic to flowers."

"Oh God, really?"

"It's the best I could do, but you're getting a shot at the doctor's, so you should be good as new in no time."

"Thank you, modern medical science!"

"But, just to be safe, you should probably stay away from flowers at dinner tomorrow."

"Noted."

"So, Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, what are you going to do now that you got your degree?" Rory asked.

"Run off to Europe, marry a rich king, eat fancy chocolates, and live happily ever after."

"Sounds like a plan," Rory agreed.

"Or if that doesn't take, I guess I'll just go back to the Inn."

"Slightly less glamorous but more practical," Rory pointed out.

"I'm graduated," Lorelai stated. "I am a graduate. I have a degree."

"You do," Rory nodded.

"Dad gave me an envelope."

"Ooh! A mystery envelope?"

"With a rather sizable sum of money tucked inside," Lorelai said gleefully.

"I feel a shopping trip coming on."

"I do have that familiar tickle in my nose, although it could be the flower allergy."

"Would it be impersonal if I just gave you money too?" Rory asked.

"Why would you do that?"

"I couldn't find a present. I looked everywhere," she despaired.

"Don't be silly. You don't need to get me anything."

"You're going to give me something when I graduate," Rory pointed out.

"Says who?" Lorelai teased.

"I'll find you something. I will. You'll get a special present when you least expect it."

"It'll be like two graduations."

Rory nodded. "Exactly."

"And at last, we've reached Luke's," Lorelai stated, pulling open the door.

"The walk does seem to get longer every time, doesn't it?"

They walked inside.

"I think every morning Luke pushes the building just a little further away. He hopes to reach China someday."

"Good for him," Rory nodded.

Luke looked up. "Are you talking about me?"

"Reached China yet?" Lorelai asked, taking a seat at the counter.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," she dismissed. "I hear you wanted to see me."

"Oh, yeah," Luke answered. He tucked his pencil behind his ear and put the notepad on the counter. "I just wanted to say congratulations."

"Oh," Lorelai replied, sending Rory a curious look.

"So," Luke stammered. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

He nodded. "Oh, and this is for you," he added. He reached under the counter and set a cupcake in front of her.

She grinned. "It has a hat."

"And a tassel," he pointed out.

"You got me a tassel hat for my cupcake?" she teased, looking up at him.

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Hey, this little cupcake graduated," she disagreed, gesturing at it. "That _is_ a big deal."

"It is a big deal," he confirmed, meeting her eyes.

She hesitated and took a quick glance at Rory. Then, looking at him again, she smiled. "Thank you, Luke."

"You're welcome. Oh, and Rory, here, this is for you." He set a plain cupcake in front of her.

Lorelai frowned. "Hey, she didn't graduate."

"Which is why there's no hat," Luke explained. "Now eat your cupcake before I take it back."

"Fine," she moped, peeling off the wrapper. He nodded and turned around to get them some coffee. Lorelai glanced at Rory who raised a questioning eyebrow. Her only response was a sly smile and a shrug.

x x x

Jess hesitated outside the door, considering his options again. He still had time to walk away. He knocked.

Seconds later, the door opened.

"Holy shit! Look who it is!" the man on the other side greeted.

Jess gave a small nod. "Vince."

"Jess Mariano," Vince replied, shaking his head in a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "I never thought you'd show your face around here again."

Jess didn't respond.

"What happened to Stuckeyville?" he asked.

Jess shrugged.

"Don't tell me you got your ass kicked out of a whole town."

"Not exactly," Jess replied.

Vince raised an eyebrow but didn't push the issue. "So what are you doing here?"

"I need a place to crash."

"For how long?"

"Just a couple of days," Jess promised.

Vince pushed the door open the rest of the way and let him in.

Jess walked into the living room and immediately saw a man and a woman sitting on the couch.

The woman stood up and rushed towards him, enveloping him in an awkward hug. When she pulled away, she was smiling from ear to ear. "Jess Mariano. Where've you been keeping yourself?"

He didn't respond, instead looking past her at the man she'd been sitting with. He was fixing Jess with an ice-cold glare. "Come sit down, Terri," he ordered without breaking eye contact with Jess. Instantly, Terri headed back to the couch and sat down.

"Don't be an asshole, Wade," Vince ordered.

Wade turned his attention to Vince. "_He's_ the asshole," he stated, referring to Jess.

Jess clenched his jaw but didn't say anything.

"Regardless," Vince replied. "I owe him a favor, so he's staying with us for a few days."

"Perfect," Wade growled.

"There's a cot in the other room, Jess," Vince told him.

Jess nodded and headed in that direction. As soon as he got into the room, he laid down on the cot, knowing better than to remove his shoes. He positioned his body so he had a clear shot of the door and tried to fall asleep, telling himself that this was slightly better than staying on the streets and a helluva lot better than going home... even if he had to sleep with one eye open.


	24. One Thing Leads to Another

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 24: One Thing Leads to Another**

**_Disclaimer_**_: Still don't own anything. Fancy that._

**_A/N_**_: Huh. So it seems I lied when I said it might take awhile for the next update. I guess it helps that writing is the only thing that doesn't completely depress me these days. (chuckle) I just want to thank all of you for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate each and every one of you. Special thanks to **Leigh** and **Sarah** for the betas. You girls rock! This chapter is dedicated to my crazy gal-pals over at Stars Hollow Org. You all make my life a brighter, funnier, more twisted place, and I love ya for it. (group hug) I heart reviews. –Becka_

Lorelai looked over the list in front of her. "Okay, today is Sunday. The dresses have been altered. The flowers have been confirmed. We successfully managed to talk Sookie down from her wedding song psychosis."

Rory sat down across from her mother at the kitchen table.

"Stop that!" Lorelai ordered, gesturing at her daughter's wide grin.

"You have a list."

"Sookie's wedding is very important."

"It's so cute that you have a list," Rory teased. "All of these years of finding my lists and calling me your little freak. Who's the little freak now?"

"I cannot trust Michel with this," she explained.

"Mom, you know you can trust Michel with the wedding. He loves Sookie."

"So do I, which is why this list is an unfortunate necessity."

"Mom…"

"It makes me feel better."

Rory smiled. "Fine. I'll leave your list alone."

"Thank you." She lowered her head again and continued checking items off.

Rory took a sip of coffee. "Is Gus on that list?"

"Who?"

"Tall, good-looking, likes to take you out."

"Why would Gus be on this list?"

"Aren't you asking him to the wedding?"

"No. God, no," Lorelai said quickly. "It's too soon."

"Says who?"

"Says every woman who has taken her new boyfriend to a family get-together and found herself single two days later."

"I think Gus can handle it."

"Rory, my parents are going to be there."

"So?"

"So I wish Gus no harm," Lorelai answered, turning back to her list.

"I think Grandma and Grandpa'll like him."

"You met him for the first time yesterday."

"And I liked him," Rory confirmed.

"You are not Richard and Emily. You want me to be happy; _they_ want him to be a one-eyed ghoul."

"As I recall, he had two perfectly good eyes."

"That will meld into one when seen through their special hypercritical goggles. Not to mention the hair that will sprout from his nose, and the talons that will shoot out of the tips of his fingers."

Rory shook her head and smiled. "You should invite him."

"Nope."

"You have to throw him to the wolves eventually."

Lorelai frowned and looked at her daughter. "You're my date, remember?"

"I know that was the plan, but I can just hang out with Lane. You should have fun."

"Since when is hanging out with you not considered fun?"

"You know what I meant."

"I'm sorry, Rory. I just don't think it's a good idea. I like Gus. I don't want him to run screaming in the opposite direction quite yet."

"Fine," Rory accepted.

"We've only been on three dates."

"I know."

"And he probably wouldn't want to go anyway."

"Or he might. But, you know, either way," Rory said with a shrug. "I mean, you'll be all pretty. He'd be all pretty. There'd be music and dancing and champagne, but you're right; it probably wouldn't be any fun."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes. "Why are you pushing this?"

"He makes you smile," Rory said simply, staring into her coffee cup. "One of us should get to smile."

Lorelai studied her daughter for a moment. "Both of us should get to smile."

Rory glanced up and met her mother's eyes. Then, she reached out and pulled the list towards her. Grabbing the pen out of Lorelai's hand, she neatly added 'Invite Gus' to the end and passed it back over.

Lorelai looked down at the paper and sighed. Then, hesitantly, she conceded, "If it comes up, I'll ask."

Rory grinned and headed to her room to get dressed.

x x x

The cot shook, and Jess's eyes shot open.

Wade kicked it again. "Morning, sunshine."

Jess sat up and looked around. "Where's Vince?"

"Out."

"Huh," Jess nodded. He stood and moved towards the door. Wade stepped in front of him.

Jess chuckled a little and met his eyes.

"We need to talk, Mariano," Wade ordered.

"Yeah? I've missed our heart-to-hearts," Jess quipped.

"Sit."

"I'd rather stand."

Wade folded his arms over his chest and widened his stance. "You aren't welcome here."

"I think that's for Vince to decide."

"I can kick Vince's ass halfway across the country."

Jess shook his head and smirked.

"I let you stay here for a few days 'cuz you helped me out once or twice," Wade explained. "But if I have to look at your face for another second, I might just kick it in."

"Huh."

"I might anyway."

Jess waited, challenging him. When, as expected, Wade didn't move, he pushed past him into the other room.

"You screwed my girlfriend, Jess," Wade called, turning to look at him.

Jess met his eyes. "I kissed your girlfriend," he clarified. "There's a difference."

"Only because I walked in on you."

"We were drunk."

"I don't fucking care, Jess. You messed around with her, and you skipped town. No explanations, no apologies. That how you treat an old friend?"

"Leaving wasn't my choice."

"Yeah, nothing's ever your choice, is it?" When Jess didn't respond, Wade continued. "Well, this isn't either. You aren't welcome here. And, old friends or not, you come back, and I _will_ kick your ass."

Jess looked at him and saw he was serious. They'd been friends since they were kids, and it'd come to this. One mistake. One mistake that didn't mean a goddamned thing to him. One mistake that, with time, had led to another and another and another. He wasn't sure there was anything else anymore. That was it.

He left, letting the door click shut behind him.

x x x

He climbed the fire escape, hoping to slip in unnoticed. When he reached the top, he let his head fall against the window. It was closed and locked. Nothing was ever easy.

Climbing back down, he walked around the building and entered through the front door. A few moments later, the apartment loomed in front of him. He pulled the key from his pocket, almost afraid to slip it in the lock. If it no longer fit, he didn't know what the hell he was gonna do.

It flipped open.

He walked inside and glanced into the living room. Immediately, Liz leapt up and hurried over to him. She pulled him into a tight hug, only half-noticing the way he tensed. Moving away, she shoved him gently. "You scared the crap out of me, Jess. Three days! Three days you were gone!"

He rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.

"You can't just leave like that. One day, two _tops_, that I can handle. But you're gone three, and I consider calling the cops."

He pulled open the fridge.

She moved up behind him and pointed inside. "Look at that! No beer! There is not a single beer in that refrigerator."

Jess shut the door and walked past her. "Guess you better get to the store then."

"No, Jess. No way. This is the new me," she stated, posing theatrically.

"Right," he mumbled.

"I'm serious, baby," she promised, grabbing his arm. "Come here. I need to talk to you."

He let her pull him over to the couch.

"Rod is gone," she said, sitting next to him. "I kicked him out. You were right; he was a jerk. I deserve better than that. _You_ deserve better than that."

He fixed his eyes on the ground.

"And the alcohol, all of it, it's gone too. You can check the cupboards. You can check my dresser drawers. You won't find any. I'm gonna make this right, Jess." She paused. "You're home, and I'm gonna make things right. Jess? Jess, did you hear me?"

When he still didn't answer, she sighed. "I know you're mad at me. I shouldn't have said that," she admitted. "About Jimmy. It was wrong. You were just a baby."

"Whatever."

"No, it was my fault. It was. But I'm going to make it right. No more losers. No more booze. Just you and me, making this work," she vowed.

Knowing better, he shook his head slightly; she didn't notice. Resting her hand on his arm, she said his name again. He looked at her. "Okay?" she asked, needing his approval.

"Yeah," he answered. What else could he say?

She grinned and patted his arm reassuringly. "Okay! You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna make us dinner. A _real_ dinner. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, carrots. How does that sound?"

Before he could answer, she leapt up and hurried to the kitchen. He watched her for a second then stood and went into his room. Lying down on the bed, he stared at the ceiling and listened to the clang of pots and pans as his mother attempted to cook.

He didn't have the heart to point out it was barely noon.

x x x

"Coffee."

Luke glanced up. "There's a surprise."

"I like to keep you on your toes," Lorelai agreed, taking a seat. "Like a pretty little ballerina. I've already ordered the tu-"

"Stop now, and you'll still get the coffee."

She closed her mouth mid-word and ran her fingers over it, pretending to zip it shut.

He smiled a little and poured her a mug. Once it was full to the brim, he moved to set the pot back on the heating pad. When he turned back around, he noticed Lorelai hadn't moved.

"What?" he asked, glancing at the coffee and then back up at her.

She shrugged and pointed at her zipped mouth.

"Go ahead," he allowed.

Her eyes lit up, and she moved her fingers to her lips. Pulling on the invisible zipper, she frowned. It appeared to be stuck. She pretended to tug on it a few times. Luke watched, baffled. After a few more tries, she dropped her arm to her side and shot him a pathetic look.

He rolled his eyes and reached out, pulling the invisible zipper open.

She grinned. "I knew I could get you to do it."

"You are a very sick woman."

"You participated," she reminded him, taking a sip.

"You were scaring the customers."

She smirked. "Right, of course."

"How's the wedding coming along?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Great! It's going to be beautiful."

He nodded. "Good, Sookie deserves it."

"She does, doesn't she?" Lorelai agreed. "Hey, are you go—"

"Luke! Lorelai!" a voice called urgently.

They turned to look, and Kirk ran up to the counter, clearly panicked.

"Is this normal?" he asked, shoving his arm out.

They both looked at it.

"They took the cast off," he explained. "And now look at it. Look at my arm!"

"It's kind of white," Lorelai offered.

"_Kind of_ white?" Kirk asked. "It looks dead, and it's all shrunken. The cast shrunk my arm. And look at it! It's hairy and pruney and… it doesn't feel right. I think the nerves are dead. My God, I'm going to lose my arm."

"You're not going to lose your arm, Kirk," Luke reassured him.

"It's like they put a giant Band-Aid tourniquet on it. They're gonna need to amputate."

"Kirk, calm down," Lorelai soothed. "People get casts all the time."

"I think the doctor did it wrong," he said, peering down at it.

"It'll be fine," Lorelai promised.

"What about Sookie's wedding? No bridesmaid is going to look twice at the guy with the shrunken, tourniquet arm," he lamented.

"Your jacket will cover most of your arm," Lorelai reminded him.

"That furry animal ruined my life!"

"Happens to everyone," Lorelai stated, sending Luke an amused look.

"How about a donut?" Luke offered.

Kirk turned to look at him. "You'd do that for me?"

Luke put a sprinkled donut on a plate and handed it over.

"You are a good man, Luke Danes," Kirk stated, taking a bite. He seemed to be contemplating something for a second and then abruptly, he cheered, "Makeup! Maybe makeup would add some color. I always knew that employee discount would come in handy."

Without another word, he hurried out the door.

"I'm suddenly reminded just how normal you are," Luke observed.

"A little perspective is always a good thing," Lorelai agreed, glancing down at her watch. "Shoot, I gotta get to work." She grabbed her purse and downed the rest of her coffee. As she turned to go, he grabbed her arm and handed her a Danish.

She grinned. "You are a good man, Luke Danes. Sweet, one might even sa—"

Reaching out, he guided his fingers across her lips, zipping it shut. "Go to work," he ordered.

Beat at her own game, she pouted and left.

x x x

"I hate Mondays," Rory whined as soon as she walked into the Inn kitchen.

"You love Mondays," Lorelai corrected. Seeing that her daughter was about to topple under the weight of her backpack, she hurried over and helped her take it off. "I'm not loving the scoliosis that school is determined to give you though."

"Finals," Rory explained. "And politics."

"Politics?" Sookie asked, eyeing the younger Gilmore.

"I hate Mondays," Rory repeated.

Lorelai frowned. "What happened?"

"I'm never prepared to deal with Paris on Mondays. I'm still woozy and relaxed from the weekend. Not a care in the world, and then… BAM! She pounces and doesn't let go."

"Uh-oh," Lorelai mumbled.

"She's like a puppy with a chew toy."

"Do you make squeaking noises?"

"I think I might've," Rory moped.

"So what's the crime this time?"

"I'm running for vice-president."

"What?" Lorelai exclaimed.

"Honey, that's great," Sookie cheered. "You'll be like a little Alice Gore."

Lorelai gave her a look. "Not helping, Sook."

"Oh, sorry."

"So how did this happen?" Lorelai asked, turning back to her daughter.

"She pulled out the friend card."

"Which we've learned can be trumped by the 'Paris is crazy' card."

"Yes, but then she pulled out the Harvard card," Rory added.

"That girl is always playing with a stacked deck," Lorelai lamented.

"Wait, catch me up, why do we not want to be vice-president?" Sookie asked.

"Rory wants to write politics not _do_ politics."

"See, exactly," Rory agreed. "That's what I told her."

"Well, maybe you'll lose," Lorelai offered.

"With Paris's determination? Doubtful."

"Well," Lorelai began again, trying to think of something else to say. "Vice-president is just for show, right? The president does all of the work. Maybe it won't be so bad."

"I have to go to Washington."

Lorelai's eyes widened. "Wow! Chilton really is the real deal. Do you get to live in the White House?"

"It's for six weeks in the summer."

"You get to live in the White House for six weeks?" Lorelai asked.

"No, a dorm room."

"Oh, bummer."

"Maybe this is a good thing," Sookie chimed in.

Both Gilmores looked at her curiously.

"You can get away. Clear your head," Sookie explained.

Rory frowned.

"Maybe she's right, hon," Lorelai agreed. "Maybe some time away is just what you need."

"This is time away with Paris," Rory reminded them. "Time, in a small room, with Paris."

"Okay, so not really relaxing," Sookie amended. "But different."

"I guess," Rory admitted.

"Ooh!" Lorelai clapped. "Do we get to make campaign buttons?"

"I suppose so. The election is Friday."

"Ooh, I could make cupcakes to give out!" Sookie exclaimed. "Or is that bribery?"

"Oh, and posters," Lorelai cheered.

As they began plotting the campaign, Rory slowly let herself get caught up in their excitement. After all, maybe they were right. Maybe she did need a change of scenery.

x x x

Two arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close. "I heard a rumor I might find you here," he whispered in her ear.

Lorelai smiled and turned to face him. "Mr. McCullough."

He wrinkled his nose. "Sounds kind of stuffy, doesn't it?"

"Afraid you're stuck with it."

"True enough," he admitted. He placed a quick kiss on her lips and glanced around the Inn. "So what's going on today?"

"Sookie and Rory are in the kitchen designing campaign cupcakes."

"Someone running for office?"

"Rory is going to be the next Alice Gore."

Gus nodded. "Good for her."

"I thought so."

"So do they need some help?"

"You offering?" she asked.

He shrugged. "My restaurant kind of runs itself these days."

"I'm sure they'd love the help."

"Great. When do you get done here?"

Lorelai glanced at her watch. "About an hour."

"Then come retrieve me from the kitchen in an hour," he stated. She smiled, and he headed in its direction. As he stepped away, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

He looked down at her hand and smiled. "Yes?"

"Question?" she said, adopting a serious face.

He met her eyes. "Shoot."

"How do you feel about weddings?"

He paled slightly, not quite understanding her question. "Well, uh, I think they're, uh…" He gave her a quizzical look.

"Oh crap!" Lorelai exclaimed, suddenly getting his discomfort. "Rephrase! How do you feel about attending weddings? Other people's weddings? Sookie's wedding, specifically."

He relaxed. "God, I thought you were proposing."

"No! No, no, no!" Lorelai asserted.

He laughed. "How about we start over before one of us gets offended?"

"Yes. Good," she nodded. She looked up at him. "Gus?"

"Yes?"

"How would you feel about being my date to Sookie's wedding?"

"Sunday, right?"

She nodded.

"I think my calendar's free."

"My parents are going to be there," she said abruptly.

"This isn't good?"

"Very, very not good," she confirmed. "As far from good as humanly possible."

"Ah."

"But I still want you to be there."

"Then I'll be there," he promised.

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "God, you are so going to regret saying that."

"I don't know," he disagreed. "I can be quite charming. I think I can handle them."

Lorelai frowned. "We'll see about that. Now go make cupcakes while you still have some depth perception."

"What?" he laughed.

"Nothing," she waved off. "Never mind."

He smiled and gave her another quick kiss. "You are very strange, Ms. Gilmore."

"I'll find you in an hour."

He nodded and headed off towards the kitchen. Once he was gone, Lorelai rubbed her fingers against her temples and sighed, knowing her parents were gonna eat him alive.

x x x

She'd made pot roast. She'd made tacos. She'd made a very complicated spaghetti casserole. It had been nearly four days, and Liz was starting to scare him. In the morning, she had a bowl of cereal, toast, and a glass of orange juice waiting for him. Last night, she'd attempted to make brownies from scratch – 'attempt' being the operative word. She hadn't had a drink since he'd come back from Vince's. He almost didn't recognize her.

But what scared him even more than her behavior was the fact that he was starting to take her seriously. Maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different.

x x x

"How do I look?" Lorelai asked, twirling around.

"One hot mama," Rory assessed. "You know, it's bad form to upstage the bride at her rehearsal dinner."

"Oh, no chance of that," Lorelai dismissed. "Sookie has that bridal glow. Nothing can beat that."

"That's true," Rory agreed.

"Okay, so we stop at Luke's for coffee on the way to Sookie's?"

"Luke's isn't on the way to Sookie's."

"It is if you take the scenic route."

"The scenic route that goes the opposite direction, stops at Luke's, winds around town, goes back past our house, and ends up at Sookie's?" Rory asked.

"That's the one."

"I'll grab my jacket."

A few minutes later, they were out the door and headed towards the diner.

"So, we're just two single gals hittin' the town tonight?"

"We are," Rory agreed. "We clean up nice."

"You're right; we do," Lorelai smiled.

"So," Rory began. "How's the list coming along?"

"Just fine, thank you."

"All items crossed off?"

"For the most part," Lorelai nodded.

"She's playing coy, folks," Rory crooned.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you ask Gus?"

Lorelai looked at her out of the corners of her eyes and grinned. "I might have."

"And he said?"

"He ran screaming from the room, as predicted."

"I told you he'd say yes."

"Well, he doesn't know what he's getting himself into."

"It'll be fun," Rory declared. "I like Gus."

"Eh, he's all right," Lorelai smiled. They walked into the diner. "Now this guy, this guy I adore."

"Everyone adores Luke," Rory said decisively.

He looked up at the sound of their voices and, for a moment, was taken aback.

"Hey Luke," Lorelai greeted, shimmying onto a stool.

Rory sat down beside her. "Two coffees on the double."

He swallowed. "You look nice," he directed at Lorelai. Then, quickly, he glanced at Rory and amended his statement. "You both look nice."

Rory grinned. "Told you we clean up well."

"Hey, I wasn't arguing," Lorelai defended, raising a hand.

"What's the occasion?" Luke asked, trying not to stare.

"We decided a trip to Luke's deserves our Sunday best," Lorelai quipped.

"Sookie's rehearsal dinner," Rory supplied.

"Ah, right, of course." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Slowly, he turned around to fill their order. He hesitated; what the hell was their order? He turned to face them. "You wanted?"

"Two coffees," Rory carefully stated.

"Dinner starts in five minutes," Lorelai added.

Rory looked at him worriedly. "Are you feeling okay, Luke?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded and quickly got to work filling up two take-out cups. As soon as he handed them over, they thanked him and headed for the door. As the bell signaled their departure, Rory glanced back one last time, wanting to make sure Luke was really okay. Despite the fact that a customer was currently trying to give him an order, his eyes were trained on her mother. Suddenly understanding, Rory smiled and trailed out the door after Lorelai.

Once they were outside, she nudged her mother with her elbow. "I think Luke was staring at you."

Lorelai glanced back at the diner and scoffed. "Don't be silly. He probably just forgot to blink. You know Luke."

"Yeah, I know Luke," Rory agreed, knowing full well what she saw.

Even so, she let the issue drop.

x x x

Grocery bag in hand, Jess strolled up the street towards the apartment building. As had become habit, he'd spent his Saturday reading in Washington Square Park. On his way back, he'd spotted a corner grocery store and, on impulse, decided to cook dinner that night. Even though he wouldn't admit it, a part of him wanted to thank Liz for all of the effort she'd been putting forth the past week. On the surface, however, he just wanted to eat a meal that wasn't either completely burnt or dangerously undercooked.

Juggling the bag, he pulled his keys from his pocket and headed through the doors and up the stairwell. When he opened the door to the third floor, the strong smell of marijuana immediately hit him. He didn't give it much thought, as it happened once or twice a month. He walked past the few doors on his way to their apartment. As he got closer, the smell got stronger. A small knot started to form in his stomach. He turned the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

The room was slightly smoky. Hesitantly, he walked in and glanced around. On the coffee table were a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an ashtray containing several joints.

"Jess?" Liz called, stumbling out of her bedroom.

He looked at her and immediately saw a man behind her, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

"Hey baby," she slurred. "Look who I ran into."

Jess's jaw tightened as he met Rod's gaze.

"Jess," Rod said tersely, his tone contrasting with the wide smile on his face.

Jess set the grocery bag on the counter and immediately headed for the door.

Liz disentangled herself from Rod's embrace and hurried after him. "Jesse, don't be mad," she called after him. "He missed me. He isn't going to live here; we're gonna take things slow."

Jess glared at her.

"Don't look at me like that! Don't you want me to be happy?" she pleaded. "I want you to be happy."

Feeling like an idiot, he glanced at Rod again and then at his mother. He must've been crazy.

He didn't even bother to slam the door when he left. It was a lost cause.

x x x

It was pitch-black outside when he returned home. He unlocked the door and headed upstairs, not sure what exactly to expect. When he reached the apartment door, he hesitated and then knocked.

He barely had time to take a deep, labored breath before it was pulled open.

The man squinted at him. "Jess? What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

Instantly, he relaxed.

Meeting his uncle's concerned eyes, he spoke. "I want to come back."


	25. Welcome Home

**Defending Bjork**

**Chapter 25: Welcome Home**

**_Disclaimer_**_: Twenty-five chapters later and I still haven't magically transformed into ASP. I think I'm starting to lose hope. Hmph! This chapter contains a few direct lines from "I Can't Get Started." All good Gilmore Girls fans know which lines those are and thereby know I didn't write them._

**_A/N_**_: See end of chapter._

Silent, Luke turned and walked back into the apartment.

Jess hesitated in the doorway. Luke hadn't exactly invited him in, and, frankly, the fact that he hadn't said anything or even really blinked was more than slightly unnerving. He watched as his uncle moved to the kitchen table and sat down.

After a long moment, Luke turned his eyes back to his nephew. He still didn't speak.

Slowly, Jess walked into the room. After swinging the door shut, he moved to the table and sat down as well. There was a long silence.

"Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for," Jess said at last, his voice sounding much louder than he'd intended.

"What are you doing here, Jess? What happened?" Luke asked, ignoring the comment.

Jess glanced around the room. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"Nothing? Two weeks ago, I went to New York, a city that embodies my own personal version of hell, and I asked you to come back. You laughed in my face. Now you're standing at my door in the middle of the night, asking me if you can come back? Forgive me if I misplaced my 'Welcome home' banner."

Jess tightened his jaw but didn't say anything.

"You're gonna have to do more than that to convince me, Jess," Luke stated, tired and irritated. "What changed?"

Jess struggled for something to say. Not sure what that something was, he remained silent, choosing instead to stare at the surface of the kitchen table.

Luke watched him for a second then stood up. "It's late. You can stay here tonight, but that's it. That's all you get." He walked back over to his bed.

Jess took a deep breath. "You were right."

Luke glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

Jess sighed. "You were right."

"Did you just say I was right?"

Jess shot him an annoyed look. "Yes."

Luke paused, processing the moment. Then, he smiled and walked back over to the table. Sitting down, he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "I was right," he stated proudly.

Seeing his grin, Jess rolled his eyes.

"Which part was I right about?" Luke asked, curious.

Feeling his pride slipping away, Jess tapped his finger on the table. Each word was excruciating to get out. "Pretty much everything."

Luke's smile grew impossibly wider. "Is that so?"

Jess looked at him. "Could you possibly be more annoying about this?"

"Yes," Luke stated honestly. "This isn't even close to how annoying I can be about this."

"Look, can I come back or not?" Jess asked irritably.

Luke chuckled. "Gee, Jess, I don't know."

Jess shot up out of the chair and headed for the door. "You know what? I don't need this. Never mind."

"I told you you're always welcome," Luke called after him. "I meant it."

Jess paused, one hand on the doorknob, and glanced at his uncle over his shoulder.

"Sit back down," Luke offered.

Slowly, Jess walked back over.

Once he was seated, Luke met his eyes, his face serious. "You're going to school," he began. "You're going to study, and you're going to do well. You'll work in the diner. You'll make a sincere attempt not to piss off the whole town. I realize that may be difficult given the fact that Taylor and Kirk are part of the town, but all I'm asking for is a little effort."

Jess smirked.

"You'll be nice to Lorelai," Luke added. "You'll be _really_ nice to Rory."

Jess didn't respond.

"Jess?"

"Fine," he muttered.

"You'll restrain yourself from commenting on my shirts, my job, and my home," he ticked off on his fingers. "Actually, you'll restrain yourself from commenting on any and everything about me and the life I've chosen to lead, period. When you get an A, and you _will _get an A, you'll smile and thank me when I put it up on the refrigerator. You will not take money from the till without asking. You will not put sugar into the shakers instead of salt and vice versa. You will not steal baseballs or gnomes. When I ask you where you're going, you will give me a straight answer. A 'huh' is not acceptable. Neither is an 'out' or a 'whatever'. You will—"

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Jess interrupted.

"Frankly, yes."

"Look, you said yourself it's late," Jess stated. "Could you just write up a list of demands and give it to me tomorrow?"

Luke looked at him skeptically.

"I promise I'll read it," he vowed.

"Fine," Luke agreed. He stood and retrieved a set of keys from the top of the dresser. "You're opening in the morning, and by 'opening,' I mean unlocking the door and letting customers in _not_ just turning the sign to open and waving at them while they wait outside." He threw the keys to Jess.

Jess caught them and slipped them into his pocket. "Huh, I always suspected I was doing that wrong."

"Go to sleep," Luke ordered.

Immediately, Jess stood and walked to his bed.

Luke watched him as he pulled back the blankets and kicked off his shoes. Then, with a small, proud nod, he flipped off the light.

x x x

"Morning, bride," Lorelai whispered, peeking her head around the door to Sookie's room.

Sookie stirred and opened her eyes. "Morning."

Lorelai held a small cup into the air. "I come bearing tea."

"Hand it over," Sookie requested, sitting up against the headboard.

Lorelai smiled and walked to the bed. As she handed the cup to her friend, she sat on the edge. "You have that bridal glow, just as I suspected."

"Do I?" Sookie asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Definitely," Lorelai nodded.

"How are things going down there?"

"They're perfect. The flowers are beautiful. The cake is beautiful. Michel is being polite; in fact, it might even qualify as nice. You should get married more often; I really like this side of him."

"Sorry," Sookie apologized. "I think this is a one time thing."

Lorelai grinned. "I think so too."

"Is Jackson awake yet?"

"He's my next stop."

"Tell him I love him."

"Will do," Lorelai promised. She stood up. "Now you relax, enjoy your tea, and take in the moment. I'll be back to help you with your dress in a little bit."

Sookie nodded, and Lorelai reached down to squeeze her hand. Setting her cup aside, Sookie pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so happy for you, Sookie," Lorelai whispered in her ear. "No one deserves this more than you."

When they pulled away, Sookie wiped her hand across her eyes. "You have to go. You're making me cry."

Lorelai grinned. "I'm going."

x x x

Luke walked down the stairs and looked around the diner. He located Jess at a table, taking an order, and smiled. As soon as Jess turned to start towards the counter, he adopted a serious face.

"Hey," Jess greeted with a small nod.

"I see customers," Luke acknowledged, glancing around.

"Yeah, it looks like you were right about that whole 'unlocking the door' thing."

Luke grinned. "I'm right about a lot of things," he said smugly.

"Oh jeez," Jess moaned. "You know that if anyone asks, I'm going to deny that any of that ever happened."

Luke nodded. "I figured."

Jess handed the order to Caesar and then walked over to refill the pastry display.

As he moved the lid, Luke noticed it was spotless. "Did you clean that?" he asked.

"It was disgusting," Jess replied.

Curious, Luke looked around. "The counter looks shiny."

"You're losing it."

Luke peered into the surface. "I can see my face in this counter."

"Well, just don't make direct eye contact and you should be fine," Jess reassured him.

Luke reached out and touched the side of a nearby ketchup bottle. "That isn't sticky."

"So?"

"I thought they were supposed to be sticky."

"That's a common mistake," Jess quipped.

Luke turned and looked at him. "You cleaned everything, didn't you?"

"It wasn't a big deal."

Luke seemed to consider his statement. After a pause, he spoke. "How long do you predict this will last?" he asked, referring to Jess's behavior.

Jess glanced at his watch. "I'd say you've got a few more hours."

Luke grabbed the pastry plate out of his hand and edged him out of the way. "In that case, why don't you head to the storeroom? It hasn't been reorganized in years."

x x x

Lorelai knocked on Jackson's door.

"Come in," he called, anxiety evident in his voice.

She frowned and pushed the door open. Immediately, she whistled. "Nice legs."

He turned away from the mirror to look at her. She had never seen him more distraught. "I look like Rory," Jackson whined.

"Oh, Jackson."

"Look at me! What man in their right mind wears a skirt to his wedding?"

"It's not a skirt," she reassured him. "It's a kilt."

He didn't look amused.

"There's a difference," she defended.

"Not to me," he wailed, turning back to the mirror.

"You look great," Lorelai promised.

"I look like a bearded, Scottish cross-dresser."

"But a great-looking, bearded, Scottish cross-dresser," Lorelai clarified.

"This isn't funny."

Lorelai nodded slightly and walked over to him. "Okay, Jackson, so maybe the kilt isn't perfect, but you know what? You're getting married today. You're getting married to this great, beautiful, funny, amazing, perfect person who just moments ago wanted to make sure that I told her future husband that she loves him."

"She said that?" he asked, moved.

"Of course she did."

"You don't think she'll change her mind once she sees me in this?"

Lorelai smiled. "When she sees you in this, I think she'll be even more certain that she chose the right person."

Jackson nodded and peered at himself in the mirror again, tilting his head slightly. "It does kinda flatter my legs, doesn't it?"

Lorelai walked over to stand beside him and looked at the reflection. "You look better than most of the girls at Chilton," she agreed.

x x x

Rory smoothed down the front of her dress and glanced at herself in the mirror. In the background, she glimpsed her mother walking in the door.

"You look pretty," Lorelai complimented.

Rory turned around and smiled. "Thank you."

"Here, turn back around," Lorelai said as she approached. "I still have to do your hair."

Rory faced the mirror, and her mother immediately starting separating some of her hair out and turning it into braids.

"Are you nervous?" Rory asked.

"About what?"

"Gus."

Lorelai thought about it for a second. "Actually, no."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure why, but I'm actually very calm right now."

"Good. You should be," Rory stated, meeting her mother's eyes in the glass.

Lorelai shifted slightly and smiled.

Rory dropped her eyes to the ground. "So I was thinking…"

"Mmm, this sounds serious."

"No, not really," Rory said quickly.

"Okay, what have you been thinking about?"

"If Paris and I win the election…"

"Which you will," Lorelai interjected.

"I think I'm going to go to Washington."

Lorelai nodded, unsurprised. "Yeah?"

"I know we had plans for this summer."

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Lorelai said sincerely.

"I just think, well, maybe Sookie was right. I can't just sit around and mope."

"You _can't_ just sit around and mope," Lorelai agreed. She fastened the band in Rory's hair and then rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Finished."

They both looked into the mirror.

"It looks nice," Rory commented.

Lorelai smiled and kissed the top of Rory's head. "C'mon, kid. We better get downstairs."

Rory nodded and followed her out the door.

x x x

As Luke was wiping down a table, the bell chimed, and Kirk walked into the diner.

"Luke, I've got only ten minutes. How quickly can you make a ham on rye?"

Luke started back towards the counter. "I've never clocked it, Kirk."

"Well, you think it could be fast?"

"Yes, Kirk. Of all the sandwiches, I do believe the ham on rye is one of the faster ones to assemble."

"What about a patty melt? Same time frame?"

"Probably a little longer," Luke replied.

"Really?"

"Yes, I have to grill a hamburger," Luke patiently explained. "Whereas, with the other one, I just put the ham on the bread."

"What if I wanted the bread on the ham on rye toasted? Are we talking somewhere in between the patty melt and the untoasted?"

"Probably."

"Closer to the melt or closer to the—"

"Hey Luke," Jess interrupted, walking out of the storage room. "Do you want to come take a look at this?"

Kirk's eyes widened. "Jess?"

"Kirk," Jess greeted indifferently before turning his attention back to Luke.

"Are you a mirage?"

Jess ignored him. "So I just moved the pickles to a different shelf, and I know how much you hate chan—"

Kirk reached across the counter and pinched Jess's arm.

"Hey!" Jess said angrily.

"You're real."

"Of course I'm real," Jess retorted.

"I thought you left."

"Well, you thought wrong."

"But people said you left. People _told_ me you left."

Jess rolled his eyes and turned to Luke again. "I also moved the cans of toma—"

"So you're saying everyone's been lying to me?" Kirk said, clearly upset.

Jess sighed. "I left, and I came back. End of story."

"But you did leave?"

"Jesus," Jess complained. "Is there something we can shove in his mouth?"

"What did you want again, Kirk?" Luke intervened.

He tore his eyes away from Jess. "I can't remember what we decided was fastest. How long does it take to make the ham on rye?"

"Kirk!"

"Peanut butter and jelly to go," he stated.

"Coming right up," Luke promised. He gave Jess a warning look as he walked back into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Jess glanced at Kirk. Noticing something, he leaned forward to look closer. "What happened to your arm?"

"What do you mean?" Kirk asked defensively.

"It looks weird."

"Oh, that's just great!" Kirk whined, his voice high-pitched. "Nobody's going to see it, Kirk. Nobody'll notice, Kirk. They're all liars!" Immediately, he turned and hurried out the door.

Jess stared after him in slight shock as Luke walked back out holding a brown bag. The door slammed shut, drawing his attention in time to see Kirk run past the front window.

Luke sighed and put down the bag. "I just asked for a little effort."

Jess held up his hands in innocence. "I didn't say anything."

Luke frowned and pushed him towards the storeroom. "Sure you didn't."

x x x

Rory and Lane walked around the yard in front of the Inn, mingling before the wedding.

"Wow, that is actually really scary," Lane commented, eyeing the piano where Babette and Miss Patty were loudly singing off-key.

"Just wait until after the ceremony," Rory stated. "After a few drinks, the weeping renditions of 'Wind Beneath My Wings' start."

"Oh, no."

"And if we're lucky," Rory continued. "Kirk will join in and dedicate the B-52's 'Love Shack' to his mother."

"I've lived in this town my whole life, and I've missed all of this?"

"Your day has arrived, my friend," Rory promised. They headed towards the piano.

"Hey, is that Gus?" Lane asked, looking in the direction of Lorelai.

Rory nodded. "It is."

"Wow! He's a hottie."

"He is," Rory agreed.

"What's her secret?"

"What do you mean?"

"She consistently hooks up with hot guys while you and I are left with the drunken karaoke crowd. There has to be a trick."

Rory smiled. "She put in her time."

"I suppose that's true," Lane nodded.

Lorelai glanced over and caught them looking. She touched Gus's arm, drawing his attention, and they both headed over to the girls.

Gus eyed Miss Patty and Babette nervously before moving to stand on Lorelai's other side, putting her between him and the women.

"They already got to you, huh?" Rory asked, grinning.

"Miss Patty is particularly frisky tonight," Lorelai explained.

"She has excellent grip," Gus added. He turned to Lane. "I don't believe we've met." He extended his hand. "Gus McCullough."

Lane shook it. "Wow! Cool name. Very 'soulful, unemployed, acoustic guitar player'."

"Restaurateur, actually," he clarified.

"Oh, well, there's still time."

He looked at the drumsticks she held in her hand. "You play?"

"Depends on how you define play," she answered.

He opened his mouth to reply when the sound of a ringing cell phone interrupted him. He frowned and reached into his pocket. "Hello?"

"Rory Gilmore, please," a voice ordered.

Surprised, Gus held the phone out to her. "It's for you."

"What?" Rory exclaimed. She held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"We've got the band!"

"What?"

"We've got the band. I knew we had most of the academic clubs tied up, but band – they were the wild card 'cause believe me, if anybody's going to be truly scared of me, it's some artsy loser with a tuba tied around his neck."

"Paris, how did you get this number?"

"Oh, relax. I only need it this once. I just wanted you to know that we did it, we're in, welcome to the show!" Paris cheered before abruptly hanging up.

Rory lowered the phone and handed it back to Gus.

Lorelai narrowed her eyes. "Was that Paris?"

"Yeah," Rory answered, still a little shocked.

"God, that girl should work for the CIA. What'd she want?"

"I think we won."

"Wow!" Lorelai exclaimed.

"Congratulations," Gus added.

"You won the election?" Lane asked. "What does that mean?"

"I guess that I'm spending the summer in Washington."

"Lorelai, Rory," Emily greeted, walking towards them with Richard by her side.

Lorelai nudged Gus behind her and smiled. "Mom," she said. "Dad." They eyed Gus. "Hey, guess what!" she said quickly. "Rory was just elected as Chilton's vice-president."

The elder Gilmores turned to their granddaughter. "Congratulations," they said in unison.

Rory smiled a little. "Thank you."

"That's wonderful," Emily complimented.

"You'll make a dignified and classy politician," Richard added.

Rory blushed. "Thank you, Grandpa."

Emily turned her attention back to her daughter. "Who's that man you're hiding behind your back, Lorelai?"

Lorelai glanced at Gus over her shoulder. "Oh, wow! I didn't even notice. Hey there, stranger."

Gus squeezed her hand and stepped forward. "August McCullough," he said, extending his hand.

Emily shook it. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine, truly," Gus replied. He reached out to shake Richard's hand. "Mr. Gilmore."

"So do you just hang around to protect my daughter's back from a strong wind?" Emily asked, appraising him.

"We've been seeing each other for a couple weeks now," he stated.

"Well, isn't that nice?"

"What do you do, August?" Richard interjected.

"Gus, actually. I own a restaurant in New Haven."

"Really? Which one?"

"McCullough's."

"I've never heard of it," Emily replied.

"Well, in that case, I'll have to get you a table sometime."

"Oh, hey," Lorelai interrupted, her voice desperate. "Michel looks really overwhelmed over there. We should probably go see if he needs some help." She grabbed Gus's hand and started to lead him away.

"You go, Lorelai," Emily stopped her. "We'd like to get to know Mr. McCullough."

Lorelai paled. "Actually, Mom, I can tell that Michel can't reach something, and well, Gus here is tall," she said, patting him on the back. "So I think we're gonna need his help."

Rory and Lane grinned at each other.

"Don't be ridiculous," Emily disputed. "Surely you have a stool."

"No, no stools."

"A small step ladder?"

"Nope, none of those either."

"In that case, your father can help you. He's very tall."

Lorelai glanced at her dad. "Yes, Mom, Dad is very tall, but…"

"Go help her, Richard."

"Oh, but," Lorelai protested. "Um, what about—"

"Go on, Lorelai," Emily prodded. "Before Michel has a nervous breakdown."

Lorelai sent an apologetic look to Gus, and he smiled reassuringly. "Take your time."

"Right, okay," Lorelai accepted, her shoulders slumping. "C'mon, Dad." As she walked past Rory, she leaned in and whispered, "Protect him."

"I'll try," Rory promised.

Lorelai gave Gus one last long look before trailing after her father across the lawn.

x x x

The diner bell clanged, and Jess's head shot up from his book.

An older couple walked through, and immediately he turned back to the pages.

"That bell rings a lot, you know," Luke stated, looking at his nephew.

Jess glanced at him. "Thanks for that profound observation."

"I'm just saying you're going to give yourself whiplash if you keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"She's at Sookie's wedding."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rory isn't coming in today."

"Did I ask?"

"No, but I thought knowing that might calm you down."

Jess looked at him like he had two heads. "I'm very calm."

"Oh, so that panicked racing you get in your eyes every time the door opens is just?"

"A figment of your imagination," Jess supplied.

"Right, right," Luke nodded.

"I couldn't care less if she comes in."

"Good because at some point, she _is_ going to come in," Luke stated.

"Fine."

"She likes coffee. It's bound to happen."

"Great. Good for her," Jess replied, turning back to his book.

Luke watched him briefly. "She'd accept it, you know."

Irritated, Jess sighed and looked up from his book. "Are you still talking?"

"It can be easy, Jess."

"What?"

"Just apologize. Tell her you know you screwed up, and you're sorry you were a jerk."

Jess rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I didn't do anything wrong."

"If that's what you want to believe then that's what you believe," Luke agreed. "But if you _did_ do something, and you apologize, she'd accept it. Think about it; I'm gonna go take that order."

As Luke walked around the counter to the table, Jess watched him. Then, clenching his jaw slightly, he returned to his book.

x x x

"Oh, thank God," Lorelai exclaimed, finally locating Gus among the rows of chairs now full of people waiting for the ceremony to begin. "I thought for sure you were gone."

He smiled. "Your mother isn't as scary as you let on."

"She isn't?" Lorelai asked skeptically.

"No. I think I even got her to crack a smile."

"Of course she smiled. That's how she lures you in before she feasts on your heart."

"What about laughing? Is that a trick too?"

"You made my mother laugh?"

"I told you I can be charming. I can't believe you doubted me."

"My mother? Emily Gilmore? About this tall?" she said, holding her hand in the air. "Red hair? High society?"

"That's the one."

"Wow," Lorelai uttered in disbelief. "You made Emily Gilmore laugh. What did you say?"

"Something about you," he teased.

"Oh," she said, finally understanding. "That explains it."

He took her hand and pulled her down to sit on the chair next to him. "The important thing is I'm still here. I successfully met your mother."

"And with all limbs intact," Lorelai added. "Much better than the last guy."

Gus smiled and leaned over, kissing her gently.

Running her hand across the side of his face, she pulled away and sighed. "The ceremony's about to start."

"Then you better get going."

"You're really gonna be here when I get back?"

"Rory super-glued me to this seat."

Lorelai laughed. "I taught her well. Meet me by that tree after the ceremony," she said, pointing as she stood up.

"The chair and I will be there," Gus promised.

Lorelai grinned and hurried off to find Rory and Sookie.

x x x

Waiting for her mother, Rory scanned the crowd. She spotted Lane sitting beside Miss Patty and waved. A few rows away sat Kirk, Babette, and Morey. Her eyes trailed from one familiar face to another, then, slowly, on instinct, they journeyed away from the crowd to the trees on the perimeter, searching.

Finding no one there, her heart fell, and she kicked herself for imagining he would ever show up at a Stars Hollow gathering voluntarily. He was in New York, and it was time to face that. Steeling herself, she focused back on the wedding.

A second later, Lorelai appeared and handed her a bouquet. Side-by-side, they moved into place and started down the aisle.

x x x

Champagne popped, and the crowd laughed. Then, the sound of tinkling glass spread throughout the yard and grew in volume until the happy couple leaned in and kissed, resulting in whoops and hollers of approval.

Sookie and Jackson danced their first dance to "At Last."

For song after song, Emily and Richard waltzed around the floor, laughing and enjoying themselves more than they'd ever admit.

Lane chatted with the deejay and mercifully prevented him from playing his planned 70s disco medley.

Lorelai spent the night sitting on Gus's lap on a chair beneath a nearby tree.

And Kirk, as predicted, finally reached his champagne limit and crooned a serenade to his mother.

Rory took it all in, enjoying the happiness of her family and friends, only taking a brief break to borrow Gus's cell phone and inform Paris that she'd see her in Washington.

x x x

Accepting his offer to dance, Lorelai stood and took Gus's hand. As they headed to the makeshift dance floor, they saw Emily approaching.

"Your father and I are going home," she stated, her tone much lighter than usual. "The wedding was wonderful."

Lorelai hesitated, surprised. "Thank you."

"We've given our regards to Sookie. It was nice meeting you, Gus," she said.

"The pleasure was mine," he replied sincerely.

She nodded.

A silence fell.

After a long moment, realization dawned, and Gus turned to Lorelai. "I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she smiled.

"Okay," he accepted. "I hope to see you again, Emily."

"That can probably be arranged."

"Excellent," he enthused. He bid her good night and headed towards the bar.

Once he was gone, Emily turned back to her daughter. Expecting the worst, Lorelai braced herself.

"He's very nice," she stated.

Lorelai blinked, speechless.

"Well-spoken, excellent manners, professional."

"He is… that," Lorelai agreed, flustered.

"He owns a restaurant. He shares your sense of humor," she continued.

"Uh-huh," Lorelai said hesitantly.

"He reminds me of that diner man. Luke, is it?"

Lorelai paused, cocking her head as if she hadn't heard right. "He reminds you of Luke?"

"Yes."

"Luke Danes?"

"If that's the Luke that works at the diner, then yes."

"In what ways could Gus possibly remind you of Luke?"

"I told you. He owns a restaurant. He shares your sense of humor."

"He owns an expensive restaurant, and he… wears suits," Lorelai disagreed.

"He is slightly more polished," Emily conceded. "But there are definite similarities."

"Uh… okay," Lorelai floundered. "I guess."

"Your father and I bought a painting last week."

Lorelai shook her head, confused. "Wow! Talk about non-sequiturs."

"We were in a gallery, and it caught our eye. Nice, clean lines. Interesting picture."

"O-kay," Lorelai replied cautiously. "You'll have to show me next Friday."

"We returned it," Emily stated primly.

"Oh."

"We had it appraised last week. It turns out it's a print."

"Uh… I'm sorry to hear that," Lorelai responded. Her mother didn't seem drunk. She'd barely seen her drink, but at the moment…

"The original has a slight imperfection in the paint consistency. That's how the appraiser knew. It's hardly noticeable, but the prints don't capture it."

"I see."

"One should never settle for a replica, even if it is more polished."

Suddenly, it all made sense. Lorelai shook her head, amazed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Emily smiled. "You do that. I'll see you on Friday, Lorelai. Have a nice night."

"G'night, Mom."

As Emily walked away, Gus approached. "What was that all about?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Across the lawn, she watched her mom entwine her arm with her father's as they headed towards their car. She glanced up at Gus. "It was nothing."

x x x

"My feet are killing me," Lorelai complained, shooting puppy dog eyes in Gus's direction as he opened the car door.

He smiled and scooped her up into his arms, then kicked the door shut with his foot. "My, you're such a big, strong man," Lorelai cooed in her southern belle voice.

He loosened his grip just enough so she thought she might fall. Panicked, she grabbed onto his shoulders, and he laughed.

"Fine, I won't mock," she said, her voice normal. He headed towards the door.

As they reached the steps, Rory pulled into the driveway.

"Wait, hold on," Lorelai ordered. Gus stopped and turned around.

"She's making you carry her?" Rory teased, walking across the grass.

"My feet hurt."

"Some excuse," Rory scoffed.

"He volunteered."

"He's scared of you," Rory corrected.

Gus chuckled. "That is true," he admitted, shifting her in his arms.

"Not so strong after all, huh?" Lorelai joked.

"On the contrary, I can do this all night."

"Oh, don't test her," Rory warned.

Lorelai grinned at him evilly. "Too late." She turned back to her daughter. "I need coffee."

"Me too," Rory agreed. "I can make some."

"No, I need Luke's coffee."

Rory glanced at her watch. "Isn't Luke's closed?"

"Tell him I'm going into withdrawal, and I'll die without it. He'll let you in."

"He'll want proof."

"Then tell him I'll bring a doctor's note in the morning."

"You think that'll work again?" Rory asked.

"I hate to interrupt," Gus said. "But I lied. I can't do this all night."

"Sorry, one more second," Lorelai apologized. "Just give it a try," she said to Rory.

"Fine. I'll try."

"And if all else fails, steal it."

"I thought I was supposed to avoid a life of crime from now on," Rory reminded her.

"Crimes committed for the sake of coffee are an exception," Lorelai explained. "To the house!" she ordered, pointing to the door.

Changing his mind, Gus set her on her feet. "After you," he said.

"You are so no fun," she whined.

He rolled his eyes and picked her back up.

Rory smiled and motioned her hand like a whip. "Wa-chish."

"That's nice," Gus stated. "Really, really nice."

Rory started back down the sidewalk.

"Hey, have you ever seen 'Creature of the Black Lagoon'?" Lorelai asked as they headed for the door.

"This already isn't as easy as it lo—."

Lorelai grinned and turned limp, her arms and legs hanging helplessly in the air.

The sudden change in her position threw Gus slightly off-balance. "See, now that isn't exactly helping," Rory heard him say as she turned the corner.

x x x

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Jess asked, glancing at his uncle as he surveyed the storage room.

"You did a nice job," Luke commended.

"It took a long time, so if you're just going to come down here while I'm sleeping and move everything back to how it was before, I'd rather know now, so I can chain you to a chair."

"You have my word."

"Good."

"I'm gonna go lock up," Luke said. "You finished in here?"

"Just about."

Luke patted him on the back and headed back out into the diner. He was grabbing the keys out of the till when he heard the bell above the door chime. "We're closed," he said, looking up. "Oh, hey," he greeted Rory.

"Hi, Luke."

He glanced at the storage room, then back at her. "Wedding over?"

She sat down on a stool. "Yup."

"How'd it go?"

"Good. Very good."

"That's good. What can I get you?"

"Mom needs coffee."

"I should've guessed."

"If you don't have any made, it's fine. She'll just have to wait until morning."

"I just made a fresh pot for the last customer."

"Perfect."

As Luke turned around to fill two carry-out cups, Rory drummed her fingers on the counter and glanced around the diner. It was always so strange to see it empty.

"Here you go," Luke offered, holding out the cups.

Rory stood and reached out to take them. "Thanks, Lu—"

"Hey Luke," a voice called. "What do you want me to do with these b—"

Jess stepped out of the storeroom, a stack of flattened cardboard boxes in his arms. His eyes met Rory's, and he froze mid-movement.

Rory's heart crashed down into her stomach.

They both stood, eyes locked, not saying anything. The air was completely still.

After a second, Luke cleared his throat and turned to Jess. "You can just stick them out back," he answered.

Grateful, Jess nodded and immediately walked past Rory and out the door, boxes in hand. Rory's mouth still hung slightly open in mid-word as she followed his path and watched the door close behind him.

"Rory?"

"Huh?" she mumbled, turning her eyes to Luke.

He set a cup in front of her. "Why don't you stay here and drink your coffee? I'll go drop this off with your mom."

Still shell-shocked, Rory nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," Luke agreed.

It wasn't until he was out the door that Rory realized what he'd said, where he was going, and what was waiting for him when he got there.

x x x

"Mmm… God, you're good at that," Lorelai moaned, tilting her head back against the arm of the couch as Gus massaged her feet.

He smiled and ran his hand up her calf, inching forward towards her.

The doorbell rang.

Gus frowned. "Who could that be?"

Lorelai swung her legs off the couch and stood. "It's probably Rory."

"She rings the doorbell?" he asked, confused.

Lorelai smirked. "Would you want to accidentally walk in on us?"

"Point taken," Gus agreed. As Lorelai went to get the door, he leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.

Lorelai glanced back at him as she pulled the door open. When she turned back, she startled. "Luke?"

"Lorelai," he nodded.

She looked at him for a second before slipping outside and pulling the door closed. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I'm bringing you coffee."

"Since when do you deliver?"

"Why are you whispering?" he asked.

"Because… it's… night," she said weakly. "People are sleeping. Where's Rory?"

"At the diner."

Lorelai frowned. "Is there some 'Freaky Friday' thing going on that I don't know about?"

"Jess is back," Luke said simply.

"What?!?" Lorelai exclaimed, forgetting to whisper.

"He came back last night."

"Wow, for good?"

"For as long as he wants," Luke clarified.

Lorelai nodded. "So Rory knows?"

"She just saw him. I figured I should let them work out… whatever they need to… work out," he said uncertainly.

"Which is why you now deliver," she confirmed.

He nodded but continued to hold the cup. "How was the wedding?"

"It was beautiful. Everything went smoothly. Everyone had a good time. Jackson had to wear a kilt."

"Oh yeah? That must have been something."

"It was. Oh, and when the wind picked up, you should've seen him start to panic. We thought for sure he was heading for a Marilyn Monroe moment."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

Lorelai smiled and met his eyes. "Me too."

They both fell silent.

Luke glanced at the door. "Is there any chance I could come inside for a minute? I don't know how long Rory and Jess are going to be, and I don't really have anywhere else to go."

"Oh, um," Lorelai replied, struggling for an out. "Actually, the place is a mess. It's a disaster. We, uh, couldn't find Rory's shoes earlier, so we had to tear the whole place apart. There are clothes everywhere. There's nowhere to sit down. Our unmentionables are out in the open. It's not a pretty si—"

Luke watched her, eyes wild and mouth moving a mile a minute. Abruptly, he reached out with his free hand and slowly guided his fingers across her lips, zipping them shut.

Surprised, she closed her mouth and stared at him.

"I wish I would've learned that trick earlier," he whispered.

Lorelai looked at him quizzically.

He took a step forward, letting his hand drift down to graze her upper arm. Her eyes shifted to watch as his fingers danced almost imperceptibly across her bare skin. She shivered and turned her eyes back to his. Then, leaning in, she let her hand fall on his cheek and started to draw him closer.

"Lorelai," a voice called. The door swung open.

They both jumped back.

Gus looked from her to Luke, not picking up on their awkwardness.

"Hey," he greeted. "I'm Gus." He extended his hand, and slowly Luke reached out and shook it.

"Luke."

"Ah, the man with the coffee. You are a very important part of their lives."

Regaining her composure, Lorelai looked at the cup in Luke's hand. "Speaking of which…" she prodded.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he apologized. "Here."

She took the cup, her fingers nudging against his. He jerked away and let his hand fall to his side.

After another awkward silence, Luke pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go," he stated, avoiding Lorelai's eyes.

Gus smiled and wrapped an arm around Lorelai's waist. "It was nice meeting you, Luke."

Luke nodded and turned to walk away.

"Hey Luke?" Lorelai called, needing to say something.

He paused but didn't turn around.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

A moment later, he was gone.

x x x

Numb, Rory sat down on the stool and waited.

Jess took his time. He'd known he'd see her eventually; Luke had pretty much shoved that fact down his throat earlier that day. But for tonight at least, he'd thought he was safe.

As he walked back around to the front of the diner, he saw her through the window. He'd heard the diner bell chime after he'd gone outside, and he'd hoped it had been her. No such luck. He watched her for a second. She didn't move. She was just sitting at the counter in a blue, silk dress, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. He tried to hate her for it.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside. At the sound of the bell, she glanced back and met his eyes again.

"Hey," he said, his voice cold.

She looked away.

Closing the door, he walked behind the counter and picked up a rag.

She watched him intently as he busied himself with wiping things down. Then, softly, she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"I moved back," he said, nonchalant.

"What?"

"I moved back," he repeated.

"Oh. Why?"

Straightening, he faced her and leaned his back against the counter. "Luke begged me."

"Oh," she replied.

"I have to close," he stated. "Did you need something?"

She stared into her cup and didn't speak.

"Rory?"

"That wasn't how things were supposed to go in New York."

He folded his arms over his chest. "Sorry I ruined your plan."

She brushed her hair behind her ear and nodded. "It's late. I should go." She made a move to stand up but stopped when he spoke.

"One day you're sitting on the bridge telling me you love Dean and that you'll always love Dean," he explained, his tone surprisingly even. "And the next, you're coming to New York and telling me that you broke up with Dean and you miss me. What was I supposed to think?"

She looked at him. "I did miss you."

"Well," he shrugged. "I'm back now. Problem solved."

She sighed. "I still miss you."

"I don't know what you want me to do about that."

She turned her gaze back to her cup. "Were we really never friends?" she asked, her voice small.

He fixed his eyes on her. "I don't know."

She nodded, accepting his answer. There was a long silence.

"I wasn't in love with Dean," she admitted. "I mean, I think I was, once, but that day on the bridge when I told you I loved him, I knew I was lying."

He didn't respond.

"And I was wrong when I made it seem like you were the problem in New York. Like the reason we couldn't be together was some sort of issue you had. Like it wasn't my fault. You gave me plenty of chances, and I know I waited too long."

When he still didn't speak, her eyes finally drifted up to lock with his. "I'm sorry. For everything." He gave no reaction. She stood, leaving her cup on the counter. "Welcome home."

He watched her walk towards the door.

"We were friends, Rory," he stated, stopping her.

She turned to look at him.

"What exactly did you think was gonna happen in New York?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"It seemed like you had some sort of idea," he encouraged. She hesitated for a second, and he moved around the counter, stopping at its edge. "I want to know."

She shrugged. "I guess I thought I'd go there and see your life and know exactly what to say."

"But you didn't?"

She made a small noise in her throat. "Obviously not."

"I acted like a jerk," he stated.

"You had every right."

He nodded. Then, after a slight pause, he spoke. "Try again."

"What?"

He took a deep breath and searched her eyes. "Just try again. Pretend we're back in New York."

She considered his request. "I would have been standing closer," she ventured, looking at the space that separated them.

He took a few steps forward and stopped in front of her. "Better?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Anything else?"

"Well," she admitted. "I pictured us in front of this beautiful graffiti wall."

He smirked. "We'll use our imaginations."

She steadied herself. "Honestly, I don't really know what I would've said."

"What did you want to say?"

She ran her eyes over his face, thinking. "There's really only one thing I should've said that I didn't."

"What?"

She exhaled. "Come back."

Before the last word had fully escaped her mouth, he kissed her.

She returned it instantly, running her hand into his hair to hold him in place. He pulled her forward until she was flush against him.

When he finally pulled away, she opened her eyes and smiled.

He smiled back and moved forward to kiss her again.

Before he could, her face fell, and she stopped him. "Jess."

He braced himself for the worst. "What?"

"I have to go."

When he started to tense and move away, she added quickly, "To Washington DC. In two weeks. I told Paris I would. I didn't think you'd come back, and I hated being here and being reminded of everything, and it seemed like the right decision, but now… Maybe I can still say no… or get really sick… or…"

"Rory?"

"What?"

"Breathe."

"But I don't want you to think…"

"We'll figure it out," he whispered against her lips. Before she had time to argue, he deepened the kiss.

She trailed her fingers down his face and pulled away. "Welcome home."

He smirked. "You already said that."

"I know," she admitted. "Welcome home. Welcome home. Welcome home."

-THE END-

**_A/N_**_: Yes, those two little words up there; they do mean 'the end.' "Defending Bjork" has reached its conclusion, folks. I sincerely thank every single one of you who read all or parts of this story and particularly those of you who took the time to post reviews and tell me what you thought. It has been one of the best writing experiences for me, despite the occasional blocks and hair-pulling. There are so many people who deserve acknowledgments, it's not even funny. **Shannon**: My goodness, this fic wouldn't even exist without you. Who'd have thought that challenge almost two years ago would've led to such a massive thing as this? I can't thank you enough. You are awesome and a brilliant writer. I hope you get back to it soon. **Elise, Ali, Lia, Marissa, Leigh, Kat, and Sidney**: You're my girls. Thank you for all of your support and encouragement. **Stars Hollow Lits – Past, Present, and Future**: You all rock. What an amazing group of people… and all brought together by a mutual love for a television show. Thanks for assuring me daily that I'm not a sucky writer and for just being you. **Eve, Kim, Heather Nicole, Elise, Kat, & Ali (yes, again)**: In addition to being thoughtful and very entertaining, your writing always makes me want to try a little harder. Thanks for that. And, lastly, **Sarah**: There aren't really words to express how much you mean to me and how great I think you are, and this is coming from someone who always has more than enough words. You're my favorite. _

_If I forgot anyone who I should have remembered, I apologize. Know that it's not because you mean less but because I've been sitting in front of this laptop screen for two days straight, and I think I'm as fried as it is._

_Thanks everyone!_

_Becka_


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